Bad Boys
by alexenzeru
Summary: Ron is suddenly popular with the ladies, and Hermione finds herself inexplicably drawn to his newfound "bad boy" image. But what will happen when unusual circumstances force her to spend time with Hogwarts' ultimate bad boy, Malfoy? M rated later chapters
1. What you like

**A/N – This chapter is mainly a set up for the rest of the story, so don't worry if the relationships don't seem to match up yet. Also…Hermione seems rather OOC by the end of this chapter but it's just to make a point. She will become much more in character.**

Disclaimer: Don't own Harry Potter or any affiliated characters. (heh…I just wanted to say affiliated XD)

"Mmm," Ron moaned as a well endowed fifth year girl with a mass of amber curls pushed herself against him, "Twenty points for Ravenclaw." He muttered against her lips, moving his hands downwards to rest on her waist. The girl giggled flirtatiously and Ron allowed himself a moment to count his lucky snitches.

He wasn't sure when exactly it had happened but somehow, through no work or effort of his own, Ronald Weasley had suddenly and inexplicably become _extremely_ popular with the witches of Hogwarts. He couldn't recall a change. He couldn't think of anything that could have attracted them to him, but they were swarming to him nonetheless and he was _not _complaining.

When it first started happening, sometime around February, Ron had thoroughly embarrassed himself by accusing a blonde, goddess-like Ravenclaw of 'pulling his leg' and asking him out as a dare. It wasn't until Harry had mentioned, sometime later, how outrageously the seventh year had been flirting with him that Ron had realised his mistake and sprinted whole-heartedly to the Ravenclaw Dormitories, running over a few more girls on his way.

That first conquest had lasted a grand total of twenty-seven hours before Ron had been introduced to her older, very attractive Hufflepuff cousin. Since then, he had maintained a steady stream of female companions ranging from the fifth to the seventh year from every house but Slytherin.

And now, as he pawed his fourth catch of the week (Jenny? Jenna? It really didn't matter...) Ron took the time to appreciate this sporadic, but welcome, twist of fate. This strange new obsession the girls seemed to have with him had put Ronald Weasley _almost_ on par with Draco Malfoy as far as desirability went, for which every Gryffindor, even the jealous males, were thankful.

Malfoy, on the other hand, along with his Slytherin cronies, seemed to find the whole situation laughable, much to the annoyance of one redheaded, self-deemed 'sex-God', who got rather annoyed every time Malfoy walked past smirking and thanking Weasley for "cleaning up his leftovers".

In an attempt to explain his sudden popularity, Ron had come up with many hypotheses on the matter, all of which centred around his 'insane good looks', 'irresistible charm' and 'sharp wit'. Hermione, however, saw the situation for what it was (a domino reaction stemming from that first encounter…although Hermione was still working on why that first encounter had happened to begin with) and was rather disgruntled, if not disgusted, to stumble across Ron engaging in such activities (again) when he was supposed to be on patrol.

"Ronald Weasley, unhand that girl this instant or I'll owl your mother." A furious Hermione Granger snarled, her wand pressed to his temple. Ron lifted his hands in surrender as the girl scarpered off, hurrying to do up her top three shirt buttons. Hermione watched her go and rolled her eyes, what did the girls suddenly see in Ron? Was being a prefect really _that_ attractive? _It attracted you didn't it?_ A voice in the back of her mind answered before being mentally shushed.

Ron gulped. Try as she might, Hermione seemed to have fallen victim to the 'Weasley Charm'. The Hogwarts Prodigy found herself occupying precious lesson time staring at the back of Ron's head, or his profile whilst idly chewing on her quill nib, a bad habit she had picked up only recently. She really couldn't put her finger on what exactly she liked about the red-haired moron, although, she stubbornly told herself, she wasn't like those mindless girls trying to boost their reputation by bedding _the_ Ron Weasley. No. She had liked him as a friend first. And somehow, in her head, this made her claim more legitimate.

"Um...Hermione?" Ron muttered, his voice trembling, "Could you possibly lower your wand? You're scaring me..." Hermione took a moment to enjoy Ron's reaction before reluctantly sliding her wand into her robe pocket.

"How _dare_ you abuse your prefect responsibilities like that!" She began as Ron settled in for another 'Hermiorant' (Ron had to hold back a giggle at what he thought was the genius combination of the words Hermione and Rant which seemed to grace the same sentences more frequently than he liked). It was only at this moment that Hermione truly took in Ron's appearance. His hair was dishevelled, his shirt buttons half ripped from the cotton and there was a glistening trail of what Hermione hoped was lip gloss running from the corner of his mouth down his neck, Ron saw her looking, wiped at it and chuckled.

Hermione stumbled back slightly, looking Ron up and down before pulling herself together and focussing on his face. He was smirking at her. The twat.

"What are you smirking at Ronald?" she said in a monotone, rolling her eyes the way she always used to when Ron did something stupid, before this ridiculous 'attraction' thing had overtaken her waking (not to mention resting) mind. The whole thing seemed peculiar to her. Hermione had never had a 'type', never been one for those silly quizzes in Witch Weekly describing your 'Perfect Wizard' (and to be honest she disapproved fundamentally – the perfect man didn't _have_ to be a wizard – what was wrong with muggle men?) yet somehow, through a complete change in character, _Ronald_ of all people had caught her attention.

Ron chuckled again in what _could_ be considered a 'sexy' kind of way. Not that the word was even in the vocabulary of a witch as sensible as Hermione Jean Granger.

"Jealous again, are we _Granger_?" Ron smirked as he did up his remaining shirt buttons. Hermione couldn't speak for a moment. How was she supposed to respond? On the one hand – the way he smirked and the drawl in his voice were _extremely_ attractive, on the other he was a git, and of _course_ she was jealous. But the way he called her Granger reminded her of someone…

"Don't be so arrogant _Weasley_, and don't call me Granger, you sound like Malfoy." She snapped, trying to remind him that he was not quite the 'most-desired' in Hogwarts yet, Draco Malfoy had been working on the 'bad boy' act for years and, according to the witches of Hogwarts, Ron still had some catching up to do. To be honest, Hermione had to admit that everything about Ron was becoming more and more like the blond Slytherin, and the thought that she liked someone with _anything_ in common with that snake was enough to make her stomach turn, (personally she didn't understand what the other girls saw in Malfoy…) but she put the thoughts aside as Ron began to walk towards her.

She backed away slightly as he approached, but unusually her brain wasn't working very quickly and she accidentally backed herself into the corridor wall.

"Is that a no?" Ron muttered into her ear, placing one arm on the wall above her head as he ran his finger down her cheek in a highly inappropriate manner.

"Yes" Hermione breathed, trying to ignore the sensation of his fingers drifting down her neck…

"Yes?" Ron chucked darkly, snaking his remaining arm around her waist.

"No!" Hermione yelped attempting to slip away from him and trying to calm herself before his pea-sized brain could register how flustered she was.

"Got yourself a bit confused there Granger," Ron said, smirking once again, "but don't worry, you're not my type." And with that, and a flick of his wand to straighten his clothes and hair, he turned on his heel and swept down the corridor leaving Hermione shocked, and rather angry, gazing after him.

She felt…ashamed by the way she reacted to him, and to be honest, embarrassed. A few weeks ago his actions would have sickened her but now he seemed to have all the power in their (somewhat dysfunctional) relationship. She'd caught him abusing his authority as a prefect, but in the end _he'd_ been the one leaving _her_ with a lot to think about.

For some reason, she was highly offended by the fact that he didn't seem to find her attractive. It was strange, as she replayed their encounter in her mind Ron himself didn't stand out all that much, but his words had sparked her competitive nature. How dare someone suggest that she wasn't good enough? What, did he think that just because girls were suddenly interested in him he was better than her? Was she just a stupid _Mudblood _now?

Hermione, angry and with a lot to think about, made her way to the Gryffindor common room, where she climbed the stairs to the room she shared with Lavender and the Patil twins, flopped down onto her bed, flung her arm over her eyes and began to think.

For once Ronald Weasley attended a lesson Hermione Granger did not.

Over the next few months, a great many changes overcame Hermione Granger. So what if Ronald didn't find her attractive? There were plenty more Grindylows in the lake, and although she admitted that the sudden changes (or 'improvement') in her appearance did have _something_ to do with the red-haired git, it was most definitely _not_ for his sake. Or so she told herself.

So far, Ron hadn't noticed anything different about Hermione, and continued to prance around as if he were Harry-freaking-Potter or something, but it was only a matter of time. Her hair, although still characteristically bushy, fell in more gentle waves. Her eyelashes were slightly longer, her eyes slightly brighter, and her bust (thanks to a sneaky and extremely awkward visit to Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes) was a cup size or two larger.

It wasn't that Hermione was particularly vain, on the contrary most of her recent additions were suggestions from Ginny, Lavender, or other meddling Gryffindor girls who thought it a fun challenge to 'transform' the dowdy prefect into someone worthy of _the_ (oh so dreamy…) Ron Weasley. The real surprise had come when Miss Granger discovered that she rather _enjoyed_ being pampered and looking…well…good. In fact, Ron seemed to be the only boy at Hogwarts who _hadn't_ begun to pay more attention to her.

Even Harry, who didn't seem to notice _anything_ anymore other than Ginny and Voldemort, had become awkward around her, looking at her curiously when he thought she couldn't see. She hadn't thought he would have been at all affected but as long as they stayed good friends she was rather glad he was finally seeing her as a girl and not a floating library.

Throughout this time, Ronald's attitude towards the witches of Hogwarts hadn't changed much, except that he now accepted the occasional heartbroken Slytherin girl seeking a rebound from Draco Malfoy. This had made him rather unpopular with the Slytherin boys who already hated him for being the lapdog of The Boy Who Lived, and an increasing number of dragon dung bombs were mysteriously finding their way into Ron's bag during potions classes.

Hermione really didn't care.

Ron's actions around Hermione were completely inexplicable. It seemed that now he was a 'Sex God' he could no longer keep Hermione as just a friend, and as he had made it rather clear that he wasn't planning on making her any _more_ than a friend, they were left in the awkward situation where they interacted in class but outside of it…completely ignored each other. It was driving poor Harry insane, and he had enough to worry about.

The Gryffindor girls often gossiped about Hermione's 'crush' on Ron (Harry may have been a _little_ naïve when he told Ginny and assumed it would stay between them…) but what no one knew or dared to speculate about was how Ron felt about her.

For the sake of her pride, Hermione hadn't told anyone that he'd said she wasn't his type. It was only Harry, who had become the only person both prefects could talk to, who knew what Ron's feelings were, and he had stubbornly decided not to get involved. Privately, Harry wasn't sure that Hermione's 'feelings' for Ron didn't have more to do with her need to prove herself than any actual affection for the redhead, and for this very reason, he kept his mouth firmly shut around them, watching silently to see how things would turn out.

Hermione continued to strive to better herself and her appearance, much in the way she had dedicated years to achieving academic excellence. Her grades were still at the top of the school, they hadn't dropped a single percent, but she had realised that the amount of time she had previously spent tagging along on Ron and Harry's foolish adventures (their most recent being 'try and trick Peeves into knocking over Snape's potions bottles') could be much better spent on other things. She was still there whenever Harry needed to talk to her, but she found herself spending less time even with him and rather a lot more with his girlfriend and the other Gryffindor girls.

Hermione Granger was relatively happy with her new circumstances, and it was just as she came to realise that maybe it was time to move on, that Ron Weasley decided to notice her again.

**A/N – Thanks for reading :3 I don't really have too much of a plan for how this story is going to go…so I'm quite excited haha.**


	2. Players

**A/N – Thank you to those who reviewed ****It really helped motivate me to write this chapter even though I have my exams on ^^**

_In other news, to all those _[thump]_ planning a holiday to Jupiter's third moon this week, we _[thump] _recommend caution! The Elvin apparition control unit have _[thump]_ gone on strike demanding new regulations to be put in place disallowing daytrips to Amalthea as they believe the flow of tourists simply creates too much air…_[thump thump thump] _traffic._

Every morning. Every bloody morning Hermione had to remind herself that wizard alarm clocks weren't _like_ muggle ones. This particular type, a gift from her parents for getting top marks (again), continued to hound the unsuspecting, groggy witch or wizard with the day's news, no matter how many times they tried to shut it up, until he, or she, managed to haul themselves out of bed, at which point the clock would turn itself off and disappear before it managed to get itself exploded. It didn't reappear, Hermione had noticed, until she was fast asleep again.

Groaning, Hermione sighed and, with what felt like far too much effort, forced herself out of bed. She stumbled across to the window and tied up the drapes (she often forgot she had a wand in the early morning and wandered around doing everything by hand). The room was quiet, the Patil twins were already gone, having made their beds very neatly, as usual, and Lavender was sprawled across her four-poster bed, the sheets tangled around her legs, fast asleep (she seemed immune to Hermione's alarm clock) no surprises there either.

The four girls seemed to have fallen into a routine that they couldn't shake, but Hermione admitted she was rather glad for it considering all the changes that had been happening in her life recently, it was nice to know that _some_ things never changed (as Hermione thought this Lavender began muttering about Viktor Krum and his long, hard broomstick).

"Lavender?" Hermione crooned quietly as she gently prodded the slumbering girl, who moaned and proceeded to roll over unceremoniously, successfully landing herself at Hermione's feet. She looked up at the prefect through narrowed eyes and mumbled incoherently before Hermione helped her to her feet.

"Did I oversleep again?" She muttered as she nonchalantly twisted her fair hair into a messy bun.

"Not by much." Hermione confirmed, summoning toothbrushes for both of them whilst Lavender muttered cleaning and dressing spells. The two girls had never been all that close, despite sharing a room since first year, but Hermione's determination to improve her appearance had struck a chord with Lavender who had now become rather fond of her roommate.

Hermione too, although still jealous of the way Lavender's hair managed to look good no matter how little time she spent on it, had grown to enjoy being around the dysfunctional witch, and they frequently spent time alone together talking about school and boys. Hermione also found that she respected Lavender for being one of the few girls _not _pining after Ron. She suspected it was because of their brief relationship earlier in the year which hadn't exactly ended well.

Once both girls were happy with their appearance, they swept from the room together, with Hermione throwing a tidying spell over her shoulder as they left, to make their beds.

They were met in the common room by Ginny, who always woke up early to try and rush the homework she had ignored the night before whilst waiting for Lavender and Hermione to arrive. When she spotted them, she closed her potions textbook without a word and, brushing off her panic at the fact that she hadn't even managed to start her essay, followed them out of the portrait hole and towards the great hall for breakfast.

The three girls chatted easily as they descended the staircase together, each skipping the disappearing step without looking, and entered the high-ceilinged hall.

Breakfast at Hogwarts was one of Hermione's favourite parts of the day (apart from lessons of course), the atmosphere throughout the great hall as students of every age talked over their toast and pumpkin juice always managed to cheer her up, and although she wasn't in a particularly bad mood today, she still felt her spirits raise just by walking down the aisle between the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff tables as classmates from both houses greeted her.

Hermione, Lavender and Ginny settled themselves at the end of the Gryffindor table closest to the teachers. Ginny borrowed a copy of _The Daily Prophet _from the boy to her left and Lavender placed a single pancake delicately on her plate before carefully sprinkling it with sugar and lemon juice. Hermione watched her friends with a sense of satisfaction, somewhat glad that she no longer had to sit between Ron and Harry whilst they stuffed themselves with food (occasionally spraying her with pumpkin juice as they spoke) or, if Harry had a Quidditch match that day or had had a particularly bad nightmare, whilst Ron ate his portion too.

Hermione was just helping herself to a modestly sized plate of eggs when the loud, happy atmosphere she so admired rippled into silence. The only person left talking was Dumbledore who, blissfully unaware of the sudden tension amongst his students and most of the staff, continued to regale Professor McGonagall with the tale of his most recent visit to a muggle sweet shop ("he was wearing shoes Minerva, with _wheels_! What will they think of next…"). Hermione, noting the direction of her best friends' gazes, glanced behind her and found, to her surprise, a nervous looking Ron Weasley standing before her, fidgeting absent-mindedly with the hem of his robes.

For a moment she forgot all the encounters they'd had over the past few months and almost shifted over to give him room to sit down before she remembered everything that had happened between them and awkwardly give him an 'um...yes?' look. Ron, suddenly noticing that he was the centre of attention, seemed to realise that he wasn't quite being himself, and, in an attempt to recreate his arrogant, confident attitude, straightened himself up, puffed his chest out, and tried to smirk at Hermione.

He looked like an idiot.

He was clearly nervous and it seemed his recently acquired 'bad boy' attitude had gone out the window.

"Erm…" he said into the silence, furrowing his eyebrows as he looked down, "hey."

Hermione raised one eyebrow as Ginny and Lavender tried to cover their giggling beside her. Ron shot his sister a glare before his eyes shifted nervously back to Hermione.

"Hello Ronald." She said, giving him a questioning 'why are you here?' smile. Ron shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot, his cheeks visibly reddening.

"Erm…" he said again, his voice shaking, and then stopped. It seemed, as he glanced around the hall once more, like he had no intention of continuing. The whole room had come to a standstill as every girl held their breath to see what he would say. Hermione kept eye contact with him, enjoying his embarrassment, and honestly, feeling rather curious as to what he could possibly wish to say to her.

The minutes ticked past and nothing happened.

She was still looking at him, waiting for his next words, when she noticed Harry for the first time standing a few metres away as he came to Ron's rescue.

"Hey, mind if we sit?" he said confidently pushing Ron into the seat next to Hermione as he went round the head of the table and sat next to Ginny, who kissed his cheek and whispered, giggling, in his ear.

No-one said anything for a moment and then, slowly, students around the hall began to resume their conversations, starting with the Gryffindors who were trying to make the situation less awkward for their housemates.

Hermione took a deep breath and then let it out again slowly. She caught Lavender's gaze and they both tried to contain their laughter as they observed Ron. She darted her eyes quickly and subtly to him. His cheeks were decidedly pink and his body was hunched over his food although, for once, he didn't appear to be particularly hungry. Everyone sat awkwardly, waiting for someone to start a conversation.

"So…" Harry began bravely after an extremely tense five minutes, "long time no see."

The rest of breakfast passed in much the same, awkward fashion. Ron replied when spoken to, but didn't make any effort to start conversations, which generated mixed reactions from the witches of Hogwarts (who of course were watching everything happening at that end of the Gryffindor table whilst managing to maintain their own conversations.) As time went on, he seemed to regain some of his confidence. He sat up straight and started laughing and joking with Harry as usual, he even winked at a few passing fourth years, but everyone still wondered about his initial nervousness.

His devoted followers said it was 'cute', others said it was 'unusual' and those girls who had been dumped by him wondered aloud to anyone who would listen whether someone had finally hexed him into submission.

Hermione was a mix of the three.

She was, of course, glad that he seemed to have finally taken notice of her, but the Ron Weasley she had grown to like was the arrogant, overconfident git who walked around as if he owned everything (and everyone) in his line of vision. That shy, awkward moment reminded her a lot of the Ron she had known before, the Ron she would never have liked in a million eons, let alone the six years they had spent at school together.

He and Harry spent the rest of the morning with Hermione and Lavender, walking to classes with them and working together in lessons. Ron and Hermione even managed to have a few awkward conversations, but it became increasingly obvious that he wanted to talk to her alone and his determination and confidence seemed to have returned. By the end of the first class, potions, he was back to his usual self, although he still seemed uncharacteristically fidgety, and Hermione couldn't figure out whether she was willing to talk to him or not.

He had clearly changed his opinion of her but she saw no need to go running into his arms with girlish enthusiasm. Besides, she was secretly waiting for him to prove his masculinity and whisk her off to an alcove where they would…

…Well. That was just her imagination running wild. No guy would ever really do that.

But still.

It wasn't until lunch that everyone managed to get the hint that Ron kind of wanted to talk to Hermione privately, and as the group of friends left the lunch hall, they dispersed in what they hoped was a subtle way (except Lavender who had to be dragged away by Ginny), leaving the two alone.

They decided wordlessly that it was too nice a day to be indoors (not to mention that they both knew that Lavender and Ginny were hiding in the broom cupboard across the room armed with extendable ears) and together, they left the entrance hall by the large oak doors and began walking down to the lake.

It was nice, Hermione thought, to be going to the lake again with Ron. They had done it plenty of times in previous years, when they had still been best friends, and the familiarity, along with the warm temperature and gentle breeze, made her feel a lot more comfortable as she drew closer to what was sure to be an awkward conversation.

They settled themselves under a willow tree (Ron checked nervously to make sure it wasn't of the Whomping variety) and, out of habit, Hermione leant against the trunk, pulled out her latest library book and began flipping through the stiff pages absent-mindedly.

Ron sat next to her and, Hermione noticed, immediately scooted closer, pretending to read over her shoulder. To any passerby it would have looked as if Ron were completely focussed on what was on the page, but Hermione knew for a fact that he couldn't read ancient Egyptian. Just as she began to wonder what he was hoping to achieve by pretending to read the complex notes on alchemy, he brought his hand to his mouth to cover his (extremely fake) yawn, and proceeded to drape his arm over Hermione's shoulder.

She had expected to feel a little jolt of energy shoot through her at the contact from the boy she supposedly liked…but she felt nothing. She wasn't sure whether it was to do with the fact that Ron had used this same move on countless girls in corridors and courtyards at school, or whether it was his deceptive shyness earlier in the day, but as he pressed himself even closer to the side of Hermione's body, she found herself starting to panic.

This wasn't how it was supposed to be! It was supposed to feel right, she was supposed to feel safe, but just because Hermione had improved her appearance, didn't mean she wasn't still shy, awkward and inexperienced.

Glancing at Ron from beneath her hair, she began to slowly try to wriggle out of his embrace, but he seemed to misinterpret her movement and, instead of backing off, looked into her eyes and began to lean closer. Hermione started panicking as he approached her, she hadn't really thought this whole thing through very well. She should have expected he would try to make a move, how could she have thought he just wanted to talk?

Various different opinions crossed through her mind in a split second. As his ex-best friend and a prefect she thought his behaviour was disgusting. As a girl who'd never really received much attention from the male students until recently, she felt rather flattered and excited. And as herself she felt a complex mixture of the two, with her discomfort at his hand being so dangerously close to slipping below her waist thrown in.

Her brilliant mind quickly began scanning the area, analysing whether it was safe to continue whilst trying to figure out if she even wanted to at the same time.

She registered four other students. Two across the lake who couldn't possibly see them in enough detail to register what it was they may or may not be about to do. One second year boy sitting alone on some steps about 300 metres away, and a small Ravenclaw girl from Hermione's year who was heading away from them.

The coast, it would seem, was clear, and Hermione turned her gaze back to Ron's. It looked like they were going to do this after all.

Ron smiled slightly, his eyes slid shut and his nose brushed gently against Hermione's. She awkwardly tried to change her position so that she was facing him without disrupting the 'moment'. Ron was taking an excruciatingly long time and, as Hermione's mind had the chance to second guess her decision to go through with this, he placed a seemingly harmless hand on her upper thigh.

What happened next was an instinctual reaction.

Hermione pulled out her wand.

**A/N – Sorry for the slight cliffhanger. I was going to continue for a few more paragraphs but I could feel my energy running out and I want the next few paragraphs to be well written so I've postponed them to the next chapter.**

**Thanks for reading! **


	3. Terrified

**Warning: Ron does some stuff in here that, from Hermione's perspective, feels very threatening, but I want to stress that he does not realise how much it affects her and doesn't mean to upset her or any of you lot :P**

**A/N – Thanks to everyone who reviewed, especially SharpestSatire and LemonDrops for your appreciation of my grammar haha : ) Without further ado, on with the story…**

"Unhand me this instant, Ronald." Hermione said, her voice dangerously calm. It didn't at all reflect her feelings. Inside, her head was in turmoil, her heart thumping loudly, her body tensed and ready to push him off. She'd thought she was ready for this but Ron's hand, still resting on her thigh, was burning her skin in an entirely unpleasant way and the proximity of his face was making her feel slightly sick.

Ron chuckled and the sound suddenly seemed very menacing.

"There's no need to play hard to get Hermione," he said, smiling, "I really like you," he continued without meeting her eyes. Hermione gripped her wand more tightly and pressed it against his chest, her hand shaking slightly. He chuckled again and wrapped his long fingers too tightly around her wrist, pinning it against the ground so that she was forced to let go of the wand.

"Ron…" she warned again, her voice unsteady. Once again, he misinterpreted her words and, smirking, pinned both her arms above her head.

Hermione's panic instantly turned to fear and she quickly began pushing as hard as she could against him, trying to escape…but her stomach lurched sickeningly when she realised her attempts weren't having any effect on his hold. She continued to struggle, but his grip didn't seem to slacken, in fact, it felt to Hermione as if the harder she struggled, the tighter his hold became. She seemed to lose the ability to speak as fear overtook her.

It felt as though she was fighting a huge battle, and she was surprised that no-one seemed to have noticed her squirming beneath him, as she thought this, he moved himself so that he was hovering above her and, as she began trying to mobilise her legs to kick him off, his lips attacked her neck. She shuddered at the grotesque sensation. It was probably supposed to feel nice, but her desperate desire to escape the boy above her overwhelmed any other thought. She knew now that she wasn't ready for any of this, and felt stupid for trying to encourage Ron's affections, but no matter how hard she pushed he didn't seem to get it.

Her eyes, which she'd closed in her attempts to free herself, snapped open as she felt him move over her head and she saw him leaning in closer. Her struggles didn't seem to have registered with him at all and as his lips came within inches of her own, her vocal chords seemed to mobilise again.

"RON PLEASE!" she cried, not caring whether the nearby students heard her. Her eyes were closed tightly again and in the ensuing silence her heavy breath sounded too loud. Slowly, she felt the pressure on her wrists release and the shadow covering her recede as Ron moved back.

Hermione sat up slowly, her eyes stinging as she tried to hold back tears. Ron was watching her with a mix of fear and uncertainty, his hands limp by his sides as he watched her recover herself. She became extremely aware that people were watching her and thought that maybe she'd overreacted, after all, he hadn't really done anything wrong. She supposed in a way she was to blame for leading him on. It was common knowledge that she supposedly liked him, she couldn't really blame him for thinking she would be open to his advances, and it wasn't his fault for misunderstanding.

She was very embarrassed at having caused an unnecessary scene, and felt, not for the first time, like an inexperienced little girl, however, to be honest, she was glad nothing had happened between them. She was sorry that she'd caused Ron so much embarrassment, he didn't deserve the odd looks the few students present were giving him, but for the sake of her pride Hermione wouldn't back down.

"I'm sorry," she said, sitting up straight and raising her head, "I'm not like all those other girls." And with that, she picked up her book, stood up, and began to walk away. She worried for a moment that her words might make him think she still wanted to be with him, but she was too scared to turn back and wasn't sure her mask of confidence could face talking to him again. She left him, bewildered and embarrassed, beneath the willow tree.

To be honest, it frightened her, the idea that, if he'd wanted to, Ron really could have kept her pinned down. Of course she'd heard the stories about muggle girls being forced upon by men, but she'd never imagined that she would have been so powerless against Ron's strength. His lanky frame didn't exactly boast muscle power, there were plenty of wizards stronger than Ron, even at Hogwarts, and Hermione had never considered herself to be weak, but the ease with which he had managed to pin her down terrified her. If _Ron_, the tall, awkward boy she'd known for years could easily combat her resistance, what could the likes of Crabbe, Goyle and even _Malfoy_ do?

For the first time in her life, Hermione actually felt afraid of the ice-blond Slytherin.

Of course, she didn't think any of them would ever be willing to touch someone like her (they'd made their detestation for anyone of muggle decent very clear over the past six years), let alone anything more…(Hermione felt a wave of heat pass down her neck)…sexual. But the idea that they _could_ was enough to force her into isolation for life.

Feeling shocked and very shaken, Hermione stumbled towards the castle doors, self consciously adjusting her robes as if trying to hide something shameful. There, as expected, she was met by an eager Lavender, begging to hear _all_ the details, and a rather more tranquil Ginny behind her. Hermione pushed past them both, side stepping a skinny ghost who was hovering by the trophy cabinet, and made her way towards the grand staircase. Ginny frowned, noticing the change in Hermione's demeanour, and followed Lavender, who was practically skipping after Hermione.

"Tell me!" Lavender moaned excitedly, seemingly unaware of Hermione's deflated stance, "What happened? Did you kiss? I bet you kissed…what was it like? We can compare notes! Not that I took notes…it's just that…well, you know, we _did_ go out for three months, but that's all in the past! All in the past…so was he good? I found him a bit…wet if you know what I mean…sorry, is that awkward? Well anyway…" Ginny placed a warning hand on Lavender's shoulder and together they watched as Hermione continued to climb the stairs as if they didn't exist behind her.

"Was it something I said?" Lavender asked worriedly, "Do you reckon she thinks I'm jealous? I'm not! I'm perfectly happy for her to go around snogging him…" Ginny sighed and slumped against the banister. For one thing, she didn't particularly want to hear about _anyone_ snogging her brother, especially when he seemed to have really upset Hermione.

"I just don't think she feels like talking right now." Ginny told Lavender (who kept glancing up the staircase with distressed eyes) tactfully, "I think she just needs to be alone for a bit. Why don't we head over to the Quidditch pitch? I hear the Ravenclaws are practising…we can watch Michael Corner…" Ginny didn't need to finish her sentence. Just the mention of watching good-looking boys race around on broomsticks was enough to get Lavender's attention.

"Let's go!" She squealed excitedly, "I have a potions essay I need to do but I'm sure Professor Snape will understand…" Lavender wiggled her eyebrows suggestively and Ginny rolled her eyes. Lavender had been convinced for some time now that Professor Snape's attitude and general meanness was due to a psychological need to prove his masculinity. She was sure he would enjoy watching Michael Corner straddling his Nimbus as much as she did. Ginny, on the other hand, thought she was insane, but liked it that way, and had therefore given up trying to convince her of Snape's _obvious_ attraction to Professor Trelawney. When present, Hermione quietly disagreed with both of them.

As the two girls skipped merrily out of the castle, their arms linked, Hermione found herself unable to proceed on the third floor.

The shock of the afternoon's revelations seemed to have burst an internal barrier and tears had begun to fall from her eyes. She felt ridiculous. Not only did she rarely cry in front of others (let alone in the middle of a corridor where anyone could see her), but she had always thought of herself as a strong girl, the weakness she was displaying to the world at present disarmed her. When she felt slightly calmer, she moved herself into an alcove and, breathing deeply in an attempt to stop hyperventilating, angrily conjured a tissue from the tip of her wand.

She didn't feel like herself. What with all the changes she'd experienced over the past few months, the omnipresent stress of schoolwork, and her stupidity regarding Ronald Weasley she felt as though everything that she'd been building up, all her anger and anticipation, were releasing themselves now, after she'd just ruined the crucial moment she'd been working towards all term.

To be honest the whole thing had been stupid. She shouldn't have tried to change herself in the first place. It all seemed particularly pointless now that Ron had made his move and she, panicking, had rejected him. Her new appearance, her new confidence, had proved false. If she'd really been confident in herself, the encounter with Ron wouldn't have felt so terrifying, they would have kissed, she would have acted as though it were nothing special to keep him interested, and then they would have headed back to the castle as a couple. People would have been talking about it for days.

But no. Just like the inexperienced little girl she was, she'd ruined what could have been a turning point in her life at school and now she was left alone with no new boyfriend, having rejected her friends…alone. She sat down on the cold, stone floor heavily and, with a wave of her wand, tied her hair into a loose bun. She didn't know how long she planned on staying there, but the stone walls were cool as she laid her face against the slabs, relieving the heat she had built up through embarrassment and tears, and she didn't think she'd be moving for a while.

By some stroke of luck, she seemed to have chosen a deserted corridor to settle herself in, and as the afternoon wore on, she made herself comfortable, slipping off her shoes and pulling her robes off to reveal her white school shirt (untucked!) and tie. It was a strange feeling to be sitting there with absolutely no desire to move and although she felt that it must be close to dinner time and her friends would be worried, she couldn't bring herself to find them and, instead, began to doze against the wall.

The first sound she became aware of was a smart tapping every few seconds. This was soon joined by a muffled rustling, like cloth against skin, and then, just as she had been about to open her eyes, a piercing light shone through the darkness, blocking her vision with a stinging sensation. She automatically brought an arm up to cover her face and slowly peered around her sleeve at the figure behind the orb of light. The contrast created by the brightness spouting from the figure's wand meant that all she could make out was a tall, dark silhouette. With a quick glance around her, Hermione realised that it was night time. Still confused by sleep, she glanced blearily back to the figure before her, hoping that she was still within the curfew of a Hogwarts prefect.

"Miss Granger," said the silhouette, and Hermione's heart fell, "surely you, of all people, should know that prefects must be in bed by midnight? Or do you take such pride in your know-it-all brain that you feel you are above the rules?" Hermione, thoroughly embarrassed at being found in such a state, gathered her belongings around her and stood up quickly.

"I'm sorry Professor," she began, forcing herself not to wince against the harsh light as she stood defiantly before him, "I lost track of time." She knew this was no excuse but she doubted he would take any better to her explaining how, having had an epiphany of sorts, she had decided to doze in an alcove.

"Indeed. Follow me Miss Granger." She waited for him to turn, and then groaned internally. She did not need this now, on top of everything that had happened earlier, but she knew it was all her own fault and followed wordlessly.

Professor Snape was not a kind man, this he knew extremely well, but even _he_ would usually have let the Granger girl off when she was only three minutes past curfew.

However…

Well…

He wasn't exactly sure.

Although she had stood proudly before him with her usual defiance, the harsh light from his wand illuminated her face and he thought she looked like she'd been crying. Not that he cared of course, but it was rather shocking to see a student of Miss Granger's intellect and strength curled up in the hallway crying (yes, privately he admitted she was probably his best student to date). So, out of a sudden, extremely rare, burst of compassion, he had invited the girl to his office, where they now sat in the midst of an extremely awkward silence, face to face.

Snape, for some reason, felt extremely self aware and realised that, out of habit, he was glaring menacingly at the poor girl. He made a slight effort to calm his gaze but it didn't seem to make a difference as she continued to fiddle with her tie self-consciously.

"Tea." He barked suddenly, making Hermione jump. He hadn't meant for it to come out so aggressively, but it seemed to him that in order to maintain his usual character he couldn't politely ask 'Milk and sugar?' and extend a plate of pumpkin pasties towards her.

She gazed at him in bewilderment before hurriedly nodding her head. She wasn't particularly comfortable sitting in the office of the only teacher who had never shown the slightest interest in her academic ability, but as long as he was being cordial she wasn't going to do anything to disturb the peace.

He scowled at her out of the corner of his eye as he shuffled around his office procuring chipped teacups, stained on the outside with remnants of his more inventive potions, and stirring a large, green teapot with his wand. Hermione watched the unfolding scene in a state of shock. How he managed to do something as mundane as making tea whilst still exuding an air of quiet, dark superiority was a mystery to her, but as he set a steaming purple cup in front of her she blushed slightly, feeling privileged to see this hidden side to the Potions Master.

He sat back down opposite her and looked at her expectantly. Unsure as to what she was supposed to say, she took a sip from her cup and complimented her Professor on the jasmine brew. He cleared his throat awkwardly.

"Thank you," he said, his voice strained, "it was a gift from Professor Trelawney." Hermione had to stop herself from spraying tea across the table as she contained her laughter. _Perhaps Ginny's right_, she thought, jokingly, before getting her emotions in check and nodding politely.

The awkward silence continued, although Hermione felt increasingly comfortable when it became apparent that Professor Snape wasn't going to punish her for being out of bed after hours. His office, she thought offhandedly, wasn't as terrifying as it had seemed when she was younger. The colourings were, indeed, mostly black and grey and there were still pickled animals in jars lining the walls, but when you looked more closely, it was possible to see evidence that an actual human being inhabited the space.

There were crumpled bits of parchment titled 'note to self' all over the desk and pinned to the walls, as well as various open packets of wizarding snacks balanced on top of piles of homework which needed marking. On the desk were a few old photographs, but for some reason Hermione found it difficult to get a good look at them, and lying open next them, a novel. Hermione was interested in seeing what kind of book the Potions Master would like, but before she could ask, he reached forward, closed the book and slid it into a drawer, then, placing his elbows on the desk and touching the tips of his fingers together, he seemed to decide that it was time to get to the point.

"Miss Granger," he began, struggling to find the correct words, "Although I find your know-it-all demeanour infuriating and, quite frankly, fail to understand what the other Professors see in you I," here he stopped for a moment, fixing Hermione with a suspicious glare before sighing and continuing, "What I mean to say is…I am a Professor of this school and, as such, have no choice but to offer guidance and support to my students, should they desire it…and, well, if you feel so inclined, I may be able to offer a…erm…shoulder to…erm…cry on?" here he glanced at Hermione in panic, "uh, uh, _metaphorically_, of course…"

It was the most awkward conversation he had ever had with a student, but Snape admitted that he didn't regret his offer. It would be nice, he thought fleetingly, if a student were to depend on him. As for his decision to choose _Hermione Granger_ of all people to extend a helping hand to well…she seemed a good place to start and it had bothered him more than it should have to see her crying. At least he wouldn't be obligated to listen to her talking about her male classmates for hours on end as he undoubtedly would have had to with other Hogwarts witches.

"So," he continued, more confident now that the most awkward part was over, "is there anything you wish to discuss?" Hermione gazed at her Professor with a profound sense of admiration and felt tears return to her eyes. Who would have thought _Professor Snape_ of all people would be someone she felt she could trust?

She hadn't been able to speak to Ginny or Lavender when they'd tried to talk to her, but here, in the office of the man who had terrorised her and her classmates for six years, she began to explain everything that had happened over the past few months, the initial encounter with Ron when he'd said he wasn't attracted to her, her motives to change her appearance, right down to the frightening experience she'd endured that afternoon. And as she spoke, Professor Snape, for the first time in years, felt the urge to laugh. He looked at Hermione with what could _almost_ be described as fondness as the bookworm relayed her boy troubles to him and thought, in one horrifically frightening moment, that this must be what it felt like to have a daughter.

**Thanks for Reading.**


	4. Drawn to danger

**A/N – WOAH. OK…so I've kiiiinda been slacking off on the whole "updating" thing…but I do have some valid excuses! Firstly, I was on holiday in China/Belgium/Costa Rica and then…I kiiiind of got hit by a car . but I'm fine now **** Then I started year 12 (aka I'm now a Junior) and I get like…a LOT of work…not that I do any of it…but the fact that I know I NEED to do it means that I feel guilty putting my time into anything else…oh, and also I think I'm cursed. I've never written a story past 3 chapters…I'm writing this now in the hopes that this chapter will be my first (ever) Chapter 4 :D (don't get ahead of yourself Alex…)**

Oh…and thanks to edwardsoneandonlylove for sending the message that kicked me back into writing XD even if this is now a few months after she sent it…the occasional continuation of reviews helped remind me not to give up on this 

The next morning Professor Snape was back to his usual, merciless self. Hermione wouldn't say she was disappointed exactly…it would have been extremely disconcerting if he'd wandered into the great hall, knelt beside her at the breakfast table, and asked her if she felt any better, or how she'd slept the night before, not to mention the fact that every other Gryffindor would have stared wide-eyed. But she had to admit that it bothered her a little more than usual when she saw him fix his penetrating glare on a first year boy who had accidentally dropped a piece of toast in his pumpkin juice.

Now that she knew his secret (that he actually had the ability to be compassionate on rare occasions) she wondered why he wasn't pleasant _all_ the time. Surely it was easier to relax his facial muscles every now and then instead of maintaining his icy scowl.

But, Hermione thought, she had no right to interfere. He had helped her and that was more than she'd ever thought possible. The previous night, having been dismissed by a rather embarrassed Professor Snape, Hermione had wandered back to the Gryffindor dormitories with a great weight lifted from her shoulders. Saying everything out loud had somehow made her feel better. She had felt guilty when she'd walked into the common room and found Lavender and Ginny asleep in the red armchairs waiting for her, but she doubted she would have been able to talk to them as easily as she had Professor Snape. Despite his reputation, Hermione couldn't help but think he was trustworthy. He was a teacher after all.

That morning, Hermione sat with Lavender and Ginny as usual, though both of them were slightly annoyed at having been left waiting all night and conversation was therefore scarce. Hermione was sorry they were upset, but found that she had more important things to worry about. She still wasn't sure where she stood with Ronald, and considering her behaviour the day before and the fact that half the school seemed to have heard about it, she wasn't exactly excited to find out, particularly not in an area as public as the Great Hall.

Gulping down the remainder of her pumpkin juice and shovelling half a muffin into her mouth, Hermione excused herself from the table, explaining that she had 'prefect stuff' to do. Lavender turned her head away dramatically, emitting a high pitched 'hmph', and Ginny just nodded solemnly. Neither of them had noticed Ron and Harry's entrance, and Hermione hoped to slip away before it became obvious that she was, in fact, trying to _run_ away from an awkward encounter with Ron.

Hermione was no coward, (this she had proved on numerous occasions - it was difficult _not_ to have your courage displayed to the world when you were best friends with one Harry James Potter) but she wasn't reckless either, and she knew that the extremely public scene which had been about to occur would have been of no help to anyone, let alone the situation itself…

What exactly the situation _was_, Hermione was no longer completely sure. It had been easier to understand her position when she knew what she wanted. Hermione was a girl…_woman_ of goals and aspiration. She knew what she wanted out of life and worked hard to get it, but the current situation with Ron had robbed her of all reason and she could no longer figure out whether they were still _friends_ let alone whether she wanted to face interrogation regarding her behaviour the previous day.

She knew just how shallow it sounded, but now that Ron had actually reciprocated her previous feelings somewhat, she no longer felt drawn to him. The best way Hermione could describe the situation to herself, was that she'd enjoyed trying to make him want her, it had been a challenge of sorts (which were hard to come by for a witch as bright as Hermione) to make herself beautiful and encourage his affection for her, but now that she'd, for all intents and purposes, "got him", the reality of forming an _actual _relationship with him had hit her, and the prospect didn't seem attractive at all. She felt horrible. She'd led him into believing she had real feelings for him, and in fact she'd thought she _did_ have real feelings for him, but now, short of pretending to like him, all she could do was hang him out to dry.

As a woman who prided herself in her moral integrity, Hermione felt a strong wave of self loathing as she slipped from the Great Hall in an attempt to escape Ron and Harry. After all, they were the first people at Hogwarts to talk to her, her first best friends, but nonetheless she couldn't help the survival instinct inside her which was practically yelling at her to run away before she faced the mortifying confrontation with Ron that was sure to come. What with his newfound attitude, he was sure to give her a hard time.

However, this prediction proved to be entirely incorrect. Those at the Gryffindor breakfast table that morning were astounded at the change they saw in the second youngest Weasley. The man they had grown to admire as their ridiculously overconfident Casanova seemed to have been knocked down a peg by the Granger girl's rejection (the news of which had of course, by now, spread throughout the school).

He sat across the table from Lavender and Ginny, both of whom felt an internal dilemma as to whether or not they were speaking to him. On the one hand, they both, particularly Lavender, felt that it was of paramount importance to stick to the "girl code" (in other words, they were morally bound to ignore Ron until Hermione decided they were allowed to socialise with him again), on the other hand they both, particularly Lavender, felt more than a little annoyance at the fact that Hermione had left them waiting for her in the Gryffindor common room the previous night, and then arrived back refusing to tell them any of the juicy gossip.

After a long consultation the girls decided that they should be safe to talk to him, however by this point, Ron who, despite his grievances, still ate at the speed of lightning, had vanished, taking Harry with him.

Hermione, for the first time in her life, was skulking. Potions class was due to start in two minutes, and on any other day, Hermione would already have been sat at her desk, books open to the correct page, shaking her head in resignation at the fact that Harry and Ron were late _again_…but today was different. Her brain kept telling her to hurry up and get to the dungeons, but each and every time, her heart gave a little temper tantrum in retaliation, which meant that she stayed exactly where she was. She couldn't help it. Surely it was natural to feel nervous about talking to Ron?

"What is wrong with you?" Hermione scolded herself as the minute hand on the great clock moved one step closer to nine o'clock, and she finally kicked herself into action and ran towards the potions classroom.

She arrived precisely 36 seconds late and found to her horror that, for once, everyone else, including Harry and Ron, had already taken their seats and had begun writing notes. There was only one seat remaining and, of course, it was next to Ron. Hermione knew she should have foreseen this, after all, she sat next to Ron in _every_ potions lesson and the spot had therefore become "hers", it was only natural that it was the only one left, but still, Hermione couldn't help but think if she'd been her usually punctual self she could have avoided having to sit next to him.

"Thank you for joining us Miss Granger," snarled the all-too-familiar voice of Professor Snape, "20 points from Gryffindor." Hermione couldn't say she was shocked, if anything she was relieved that despite their 'heart-to-heart' the night before Snape was the same as ever, but it still irked her that she'd lost points for her house. If it had been anyone else, every Gryffindor in the room would have scowled in their direction, but Hermione knew that ever since she'd joined the school, she'd singlehandedly been responsible for about half Gryffindor's house points every year, so no one could complain at her losing a few now.

Hermione, who had been frozen in the doorway for a few seconds, swiftly apologised to the potions master and took her seat. She reached into her bag, put her textbook on the desk, and then delved back in to get her quill and ink. By the time she'd found them and sat back up, her textbook was open to the correct page, and a blank piece of parchment lay neatly before her. Her eyes flicked to Ron. He was looking at the blackboard, but his eyes glanced at her for a second and he gave a small, sweet smile. Hermione felt a sudden rush of affection for him and felt an intense need to apologise for everything that had happened. Despite wanting so badly to avoid him before, now that she was forced to sit next to him, and he was being sweet, she suddenly felt guilty for the previous day. Conveniently, at this time Snape ordered everyone to put away their books, get out their cauldrons, and start preparing the necessary ingredients for a draft of the Everlasting Elixir.

Everyone stood up and began moving around the room, collecting cauldrons and raiding supply cupboards, Harry, too, seeing that Ron and Hermione wanted to talk to one another subtly slipped away, even though he had everything he need in place already.

"So…" Ron said awkwardly. Hermione took in his nervous facial expression and couldn't help but giggle with relief. It was obvious that he wasn't angry with her, and she felt a great weight lift off her shoulders at the thought. Upon seeing her laughing Ron smiled. She clearly wasn't scared of him, which had been his biggest fear, and the two of them smiled broadly at each other.

"I'm sorry." Ron said simply, and Hermione blushed, embarrassed that she'd made such a big deal out of something that was clearly nothing.

"No, no it's ok." She replied, avoided his eyes slightly despite their reconciliation. There was a moment of pause, and then Ron gently took her hand.

"So…where do we go from here?" he asked softly. Hermione looked up and saw how gently he was looking her…almost _lovingly. _She began to panic. She realised, with another wave of self loathing, that she'd continued leading him on, despite deciding that she didn't like him in _that way_ at all. She felt pain rip through her heart at the thought of having to reject him again...

But once again, she was saved by the most unlikely person imaginable.

"Perhaps," Snape snarled loudly, immediately demanding the attention of the rowdy class, "Miss Granger, you would be able to _stop talking_ and get on with the task? Or are you so confident in yourself that…" At this moment Snape, who hadn't realised what the hushed conversation had been about, noticed _the Weasley boy_ beside Hermione, his hand still curled loosely around hers. Snape glanced down at her, making sure to maintain his usual curl of the lip, and noticed her panic-stricken face.

His mind cast back to all she had told him the night before, and he couldn't help but take action…he felt that, despite his intense reluctance to show her any more 'kindness' than he already had, he couldn't stand by and watch her suffering after making her feel like she could trust him the night before.

"Very well Miss Granger," he promptly snarled in his usual voice, "as you seem to find yourself _incapable_…" (Hermione flinched at the word) "…of concentrating when surrounded by these little _friends_ of yours, perhaps you would be better off working with someone more…focussed." Snape glanced around the classroom. Several Gryffindor boys tried to catch his eye, more than happy to swap each other for the beautiful (not to mention intelligent) prefect, but his eyes slid to the right hand side of the room, where members of the Slytherin house had grown bored of watching their favourite teacher terrorise his student and had begun doodling magical cartoon strips.

His eyes stopped on Draco Malfoy, the only boy in the class whose aptitude for potions could almost match Hermione's.

"Mr Malfoy," he began, and every Slytherin in the room looked up, as if called by name, to hear what the Professor had to say to their leader, "I'm sure you wouldn't mind being separated from Mr Zabini?" Malfoy, who had missed everything that had been going on, glanced across the room suspiciously, taking note of the downcast faces of the Gryffindor boys.

"Good. You go with Mr Weasley here, Merlin knows he'd blow us all up if he didn't have someone of relative intelligence to guide him through the lesson. Miss Granger, I'm sure you'll find Blaise perfectly capable of keeping you focussed." The entire class fell still. Never in the history of potions class, had a Gryffindor and a Slytherin been forced to work together. Hermione's eyes were fixed on her soon-to-be partner.

She'd always found Blaise to be one of the more agreeable Slytherins, not that that was saying much, but as she glanced across the room at the tall green-robed boy she couldn't help but feel an inkling of dread. Nothing good could possibly come of this. She looked up at Snape with pleading eyes, but he wasn't one to go back on his decisions and with a rather large sense of satisfaction, he sent Hermione across the room, books in hand.

Every student's eyes were on her as she walked across the room, particularly those of Draco Malfoy, who thoroughly resented having to move himself and work with a blood-traitor for the sake of _Little Miss Granger_. As Hermione reached the desk, Draco picked up his books in an aggressive manor, and gave her a look which clearly said 'you'll regret this, mudblood.' Hermione couldn't help but shiver. Malfoy could never have scared her so easily before, but her encounter with Ron yesterday had shown her just how strong boys could really be. Not that she thought women to be weak, she knew full well that she could out-spell the platinum haired Slytherin easily…but when it came to brute force he had her covered.

She turned her eyes away from Draco and the distraught puppy-dog stare Ron was giving her, and turned her attention to her new partner and their bubbling cauldron. Blaise was busy stirring the concoction, and Hermione knew full well the importance of the ratio of clockwise to anticlockwise stirs needed to get the elixir perfect, and didn't want to disturb him whilst he counted them out.

She waited awkwardly next to him, until he, without having ever taken his eyes off what he was doing, silently handed her a strange-looking turnip to chop.

The lesson passed surprisingly well for Hermione. She found it invigorating to be partnered with someone who actually knew what they were doing, and she enjoyed working as a team with Blaise, in comparison to doing everything herself when paired with Ron. Together, she and Blaise successfully concocted a perfect Everlasting Elixir, and when Professor Snape told them so, Blaise gave her a somewhat constrained, but perfectly gentlemanly smile. He wasn't, Hermione had deduced, a man of many words, but nor had he attempted to punish her for separating him from Malfoy, for which Hermione was extremely thankful.

Ron, on the other hand, had not had a particularly pleasant hour. The enmity between he and Draco had increased tenfold ever since Ron had began to rival Malfoy's prestigious position as Hogwarts' Casanova, and Ron's horrific lack of skill in potions had only angered the Slytherin Prince, who held nothing back in criticism, further as he single handedly had to brew the elixir and try to ensure the classroom remained intact.

It was therefore safe to say, that both boys ended the lesson in a much worse mood than they'd started it.

As the students began to file out of the room, there was an awkward sort of exchange as Hermione and Draco crossed back to their respective 'sides'. Ron, Harry and Hermione left first as Hermione awkwardly tried to assure Ron that she was fine, leaving Blaise and Draco behind.

"This is ridiculous," Draco spat as soon as the Golden Trio were out of earshot, "what was Snape _thinking _putting me with Weasley? And _you_! With that _filthy _mudblood! Oh, someone's going to pay…"

"Actually," Blaise cut in, as cool as ever, "I found Miss Granger rather pleasant to work with. She was no bother at all." Draco gave him a pointed glare.

"There's no point sulking Draco," he continued, "you may not like her, but Hermione is a talented witch and you know it as well as I do." With anyone else Draco would have argued, but Blaise had an infuriating way of making sense sometimes.

"Fine." The blonde boy conceded, "But don't expect me to be _nice _to her." The other boy chuckled, Malfoy could be such a child sometimes.

"I wouldn't dream of it." He replied, gracefully leaving the room by the exit which would lead him back to the Slytherin common room. In the meanwhile, the Slytherin Prince was left standing alone in the potions classroom, brooding over everything that had just happened.

"My father will hear about this." he mumbled quietly to himself, still staring after the girl who was long gone.

**Thanks for reading**

**P.S – I'm always happy to hear constructive criticism but do me a favour and tell me **_**what **_**it is you feel I need to change, otherwise I can't change anything! (For obvious reasons…) I know this chapter was relatively short considering my long absence…but hopefully I'll be able to update more regularly now that the difficult chapter is out the way **

**Thanks, Alexenzeru (P.P.S – feel free to review :P)**


	5. Heart

**A/N: Hey guys. I know, another long wait...I have a feeling all my old readers will have given up on this here story xD but I hope not! Anyway, whether old or new, a common question in the reviews was (something along the lines of...) "When are Draco and Hermione gonna get it on!" **

**Well, dear readers, whilst I do aim to please, my mind is rather stubborn and refuses to admit that Hermione and Draco could get together this quickly, they do hate each other after all, but rest assured that in the coming chapters our little Prince (aka Draco) and our little nerd (aka Hermione) will begin to warm to each other...somewhat. That should begin to happen probably in the next chapter. In the meantime, I hope you can appreciate the story for what it is at the moment, as the small details (if I get around to finishing...) will eventually come back as some relatively major plot points.**

**That said, enjoy **** x**

**Oh, P.S – this is most DEFINITELY a DRAMIONE fic. I just like Blaise **

The next day came around quickly and once again, Hermione found herself in the dungeons, ready to start another Potions class. Nothing had been resolved between her and Ron, and if anything she felt more confused than ever. However, in their conversation the previous evening, Ron had agreed to give Hermione 'time to think things through', and whilst Hermione knew that no amount of time could change the fact that she no longer (and possibly never...) had feelings for Ron, she was thankful for an opportunity to calm herself and think how to let him down in a way that would allow them to remain friends.

That said, she was in no rush to spend time with him, and when the idea of having to work with him in Potions yet again occurred to Hermione, an unusual solution immediately jumped to her mind. She didn't want to work with Ron...so why not work with Blaise? He hadn't seemed too disgusted at having to spend time with her the previous day...and surely it must be nice for _anybody_ to get a break from Malfoy?

Hermione had arrived early today, and as usual, the next person to arrive was Blaise. At first, she couldn't help but think how stupid she had been to even consider asking this intelligent, but rather intimidating boy to work with her, but as he placed his textbook on the table, the Slytherin looked up and gave Hermione a nod, and the ghost of a smile. This was encouragement enough for Hermione who, gathering her strengths and clearing her throat, made her way awkwardly across the classroom and stopped in front of the tall boy.

"Hello!" She said, her voice shaking slightly but conveying the brightness and friendliness she had desired, "How are you today?" The boy's head moved with painful slowness until his deep eyes were looking into hers. He didn't say a word, and Hermione suddenly became aware of how ridiculous she must look, smiling like an idiot at this boy who had given her absolutely no reason to think he liked her. But, she reasoned, there was no point giving up now. She couldn't really embarrass herself any further.

"So I was just wondering," She continued awkwardly, fiddling with one of the perfectly straight pleats in her skirt, "since we worked so well together yesterday...maybe we could give it a try again today? I know you're a Slytherin and I'm a Gryffindor and all, but I think it'd be good for inter-house relations, and after all..." Hermione continued her poorly-prepared speech as Blaise gazed at her with bored eyes and unmoving facial expressions.

"Ok." He said eventually, his quiet but powerful voice cutting off Hermione's perpetual speech in an instant. With that, he turned back to his textbook, as if nothing had happened.

Hermione stood awkwardly by his desk, unsure of what to say or do. He'd agreed, but it wasn't quite the reaction she had imagined. Then again, her imagination had been rather unrealistic in thinking he'd smile happily and rush to pull out a seat for her. Content nonetheless, Hermione returned to her side of the room to collect her supplies, and when she returned Blaise, without taking his eyes from the instructions for the potion they'd be concocting today, lifted his bag from the stool beside his, and casually pulled it out for Hermione to sit on.

Hermione smiled.

By the time Snape arrived, Hermione was settled in place and both she and Blaise were quietly studying the Potions textbook. The Potions Master took in the scene (or lack thereof) which was occurring in his classroom with restrained puzzlement, but swept past the odd duo nonetheless in order to begin his lesson.

Students began to file into the classroom lazily, each commenting on the fact that the Gryffindor prefect was sitting in Malfoy's usual spot. Hermione couldn't help but squirm under the penetrating stares of not only the Slytherins, but also her fellow Gryffindors who were looking at her in awe. Whether they thought her brave or were merely disgusted at her behaviour she couldn't tell, but throughout the awkwardness, Blaise never changed his calm, studious demeanour. She admired that about him.

And then the room quietened. If Hermione weren't such a logical person, she'd say she felt a chill go through her. She didn't need to turn around to know who'd entered the room.

It was Malfoy.

Hermione's back straightened involuntarily, as though her subconscious wanted her to appear strong, but in the forefront of her mind, all Hermione could think of was how much she hoped the Gryffindors would come to her rescue.

Even Professor Snape remained quiet, waiting with bated breath to watch this delightful scene unfurl before him.

"Granger," He began, his voice closer than Hermione had thought, making her jump, "what are you doing?" His words were quiet, soft even, but there was no kindness or understanding in his tone. He sounded as though he were speaking of war and death, not of childish classroom affairs. Hermione could feel his breath trickling across her skin, like smoke on water, covering her, and she felt her voice catch in her throat. A small guttural sound escaped her lips, but nothing more. Her mind flashed back to the moment when Ron had pinned her to the ground and she began to imagine how much more forceful Draco would be.

The atmosphere was tense in the classroom, the Gryffindors remained traitorously silent, although they hated to admit it, the Slytherin King seemed to be in the right this time, and besides, she was on their turf now. The Slytherins, too, supported their leader in his right to assert his authority over his usual place, and many were looking in confusion at Blaise, furrowing their brows as he sat unmoving and seemingly unwilling to help his comrade.

Even Professor Snape seemed unwilling to intervene, his sharp eyes narrowed, watching the scene intensely.

The silence and tension was broken suddenly as Harry and Ron burst through the doors of the classroom, gabbling rushed excuses about the moving staircases and why they were late. Harry clocked the tension in the room before Ron, who continued babbling stupidly to a Professor who wasn't listening. Eventually he noticed the silence, and turned his gaze towards the only elevated figure in the room.

Hermione had turned around when the two came in the room, hoping to convey with her eyes her need for help, but the two remained still, dumbfounded by what they were seeing.

Draco's gaze had remained unflinchingly on Granger.

From her new position, although she still couldn't see his face, Hermione's eyes were level with her interrogator's black school jumper and, despite herself, she couldn't help but inhale the strong, masculine scent emitting from the boy behind her.

Draco, seemingly growing impatient with the situation, emitted a low growl and reached his hand towards the girl's shoulder.

Ron was across the room in a second, but Blaise was faster. With a loud clatter, his stool toppled over as he stood and gripped his friend's wrist as it came within inches of Hermione's body. Blaise had no doubts that Draco would have hurt the girl, and the Slytherin Prince's gaze remained unflinching as he flexed his hand beneath the taller boy's grip.

"Hermione's sitting with me today." Blaise's deep voice commanded, reaching across the entire room despite its softness. Hermione shivered. In that instant, Blaise sounded even more threatening than Malfoy himself.

"Why's that?" the blond-haired Slytherin replied, his voice still icy, readjusting himself so his penetrating gaze was fixed on his best friend, who remained silent.

"Eh? Blaise? Why so quiet? Come, please, do _explain _to me why you've chosen to take the side of a filthy, pathetic mudblood." The venom in Malfoy's voice angered Hermione, and she could feel her face colouring. She was still scared, but the guilt of having Blaise stick up for her and get in such trouble with Malfoy, mixed with the anger caused by the blond Slytherin's words was causing a strong emotion to bubble out of the witch. She found herself gripping the edge of the table as Malfoy continued to hurl words at Blaise, his voice no longer so quiet and controlled.

"Malfoy," Hermione finally spoke, her voice steady, masking the nerves she felt inside, "I'm sure Blaise would appreciate it if you would stop hurling profanities at him. And I for one would like to get on with the lesson. It would be very much appreciated if you would calm yourself and take your seat next to Mr Weasley so that we can begin." The classroom fell silent once more, each student awaiting the sure-to-be fiery reaction of Draco Malfoy, however despite his willingness to hit the prefect seconds before, Malfoy did as he was told and, wrenching his arm from his friend's grip and curling his lip, sauntered his way across the room, and took his seat next to a stunned Ron.

Hermione was more stunned than anyone, but it came as no surprise to Blaise that Draco would listen to the girl. She had a rather marvellous talent for sounded exactly like Malfoy's mother did when _she_ was angry.

Malfoy left the room first, leaving a speechless Ron on the verge of tears. A two week project? With _Malfoy_? Ron couldn't help but think how much more pleasant it would have been to do a project with Hermione. He'd be able to talk to her whenever he wanted on the pretence of 'Potions stuff', not to mention those late nights in the library doing...research...

Blaise packed his books slowly, taking his time as with everything else he did, and Hermione waited patiently, keen to speak with him about their project, and to thank him for what had happened at the beginning of the lesson. She was extremely glad she had chosen to sit with Blaise. She'd done projects with Ron before, and he had unfailingly been of absolutely no help whatsoever each and every time and she'd ended up having to do everything herself. Maybe Blaise would change her luck.

Most of the students were gone by the time Blaise raised his gaze to meet Hermione's. She had been standing patiently, her books clutched to her chest and her bag resting on her shoulder, for more than a few minutes, but she didn't look aggravated at all. This was new to Blaise who spent the majority of his time with a boy who threw a fit if he was left waiting longer than it took to check himself out in the mirror.

Blaise was not a slow person by nature; he just didn't see the point in rushing things. Nor was he lazy, he simply understood that taking your time to do things allowed you the opportunity to take in your surroundings and reflect on what people had said, or on what you had to do. This, combined with his relative silence and nonchalant attitude had had him labelled as a somewhat threatening, but very 'cool' person.

However Hermione didn't seem intimidated by him at all. In fact, as she stood there waiting for him, a small but bright smile lit her face. As the boy straightened up, slinging his bag over his head, he awarded the girl a subtle raising of the eyebrows.

That was all she needed.

She began thanking him profusely for his actions at the beginning of the lesson, and continued chattering away despite his lack of response. She seemed to understand that he _was_ listening to her, and continued her happy rant without seeming to be offended by his silence. Eventually, as Blaise assumed was inevitable for Hermione, the topic of her monologue moved to work and the project they would be doing together for Potions. By this point, Hermione had escorted Blaise to the entrance of the Slytherin common room, and the two stopped awkwardly outside. Hermione seemed to be looking at Blaise with bright expectation, as if hoping he would answer her question, although Blaise was sure she hadn't asked one.

The silence stretched on for a little too long between the two, and eventually the tall boy felt it necessary to speak.

"We'll meet here after dinner every day," he said, his tone leaving no room for Hermione's opinion, "we'll work for two hours in the common room and go to the library on Fridays and Sundays. You can have Saturdays off."

Hermione's face paled slightly.

"You mean...in there?" She asked gently, gesturing towards the entrance to the Slytherin common room behind him. Blaise didn't reply, but gave her a look which begged the question 'is there a problem with that?'

"No..." Hermione replied to the Slytherin's silent query, "It's just...am I allowed?"

Blaise's lips twitched upwards slightly. It wasn't a smile, but his eyes, unnoticed by Hermione, showed a warmth which indicated a growing fondness for the Gryffindor.

"You're a prefect." He said simply, and slipped into his common room without another word.

"But Malfoy..." Hermione whispered to the empty corridor.

**A/N – Ok. Yes I know, short chapter, and I am very sorry. But it felt like the right place to stop and that was quite an action-packed episode...I think Oo I wrote it all in one go as well, so I'm sorry for any mistakes you might find...**

**I hope you like it, and feel free to offer any suggestions you might have...although...that would involve reviewing...moohahaha**

**Thank you for reading :3 **


	6. Divided

**A/N – so, you must all be dying of shock that I'm actually updated this story without a few months wait in between chapters...but...the plot bunnies! They have attacked me! Their furry little cuteness won't leave me alone and suddenly I am plagued with visions of Draco and Hermione and Blaise and everyone no matter where I am or what I'm trying to do so...here goes! Chapter 6 (never thought I'd ever get this far...so yay!)**

When Hermione entered the Gryffindor common room, she was greeted with a somewhat hostile silence. Clearly, news of the events of potions class had spread, and whilst a few first years gazed at her in obvious admiration, the majority of students didn't seem best pleased at the idea that their beloved prefect had crossed over to the dark side.

Even Ron and Harry seemed tentative as they approached their friend.

"Hermione...?" Ron asked uncertainly, stepping slowly towards her with Harry just behind him.

Hermione thought they were being ridiculous.

"What?" She snapped, causing Ron to recoil slightly as Harry grabbed his forearm.

"So I sat with a Slytherin," she continued, fuming, "that doesn't mean I'm a death eater for Merlin's sake!" The room remained wholly unconvinced as Hermione's eyes slid across her friends. Was this what came of being friendly? Blaise was a perfectly nice person, but her fellow Gryffindors clearly couldn't see past his house colours.

"I'm disappointed in you," she said quietly, "all you of you." she emphasised, her eyes resting on Lavender and Ginny who had, on multiple occasions, commented on how good looking certain Slytherin boys were.

"Not every Slytherin is the next Voldemort!" She cried, so angry she forgot to use one of the Dark Lord's many pseudonyms, the whole room, even Harry, jumped at hearing that name come from the lips of their perfect prefect. How could they be like this? She'd expect this sort of hostility from a Slytherin, but her Gryffindors? Her _friends_? She'd thought they'd be more tolerant. She only hoped that Blaise wasn't receiving the same sort of trouble in _his_ common room. Then again, she thought, he was a tough guy, he'd be fine.

But still, she couldn't help but feel guilty about what had happened between him and Malfoy. They _were_ friends after all...and, although she hated to admit it, Hermione could see why Malfoy might have felt a little betrayed when Blaise stood up for her, forcing him to sit with Ron.

Hermione cursed herself for being so empathetic.

The continued silence in the common room brought her attention back to the present. Every student's eyes were focussed on her. Ginny, Lavender, Harry and Ron looked worried about her, but everyone else's stares were just blank.

"Sorry," she muttered with a slight eye roll and, dragging her way across the room, prepared to make her way to bed, until Ron spoke.

"I-I'm on Hermione's side." He finally declared, clearly unsure of what he was saying, "She's the most loyal, k-kind hearted one of us all. If she says this Blaise guy is alright..." Ron shuddered, "Then he must be okay." Ron's cautious speech was met with silence, but Hermione was extremely grateful to her red-haired friend.

"Yeah," Ginny said eventually, "he must be ok." Harry and Lavender followed, until eventually the whole common room was awash with talk of Blaise and how exciting it was that one of _them_ was actually _nice_.

Hermione couldn't help but chuckle at how easily they'd all been persuaded by her friends.

* * *

Something very strange was happening to Blaise. That morning, as he'd made his way to the Great Hall for breakfast, several small children wearing red and gold ties had actually _smiled_ at him, a few girls even giving him little waves. Unsure of what the social protocol was in such situations, Blaise had given his customary nod in each of their directions, which had only seemed to make them happier, much to his confusion.

Then, upon entering the hall, a group of boys from the Gryffindor Quidditch team had actually stopped and said 'Hello!' to him. Rather worried by these developments, the confused Slytherin had taken his seat at the green-clothed table with an even more blank expression than usual as he tried to figure out what on earth was happening.

It didn't take him long to make the link between the strange new attitude of the Gryffindors and their perky prefect. He was surprised that such a small, pointless action had caused such a change in the Gryffindors, none of the Slytherins had even mentioned what had gone on in the potions classroom. Then again, Blaise thought, they probably didn't dare confront the best friend of Draco Malfoy, even if Malfoy himself hadn't been best pleased with the developments, they all knew him to be fiercely loyal to Blaise.

Once this connection had been made, Blaise went on with his breakfast as usual. Now that he knew the cause of the abnormality, it didn't really bother him that the Gryffindors seemed to be acknowledging his existence. His housemates, however, were more than a little unnerved, especially when Neville Longbottom, who usually avoided the Slytherin table like the plague, ignored their jeers and taunts in order to approach Blaise and offer him a ridiculously friendly 'good morning!'

Blaise, growing more accustomed to the attention of the lions, actually gave Longbottom a small smile, earning him a number of disbelieving looks from his housemates, before the boy scurried away to enthuse to his fellow Gryffindors about how right Hermione had been about Blaise.

When Hermione eventually pottered into breakfast, her usual assortment of books in hand, she was immediately accosted with Gryffindors telling her, with obvious pride, that they'd done it! They'd _talked to Blaise_! This wasn't quite what the prefect had been expecting, and she couldn't help but giggle at the thought of her cheery housemates attacking the silent boy with friendly greetings...she only hoped he wasn't angry about it...

Hermione looked over to the tall boy worriedly but, as usual, his face gave nothing away. Sighing, she sat down next to Ron without thinking, and was immediately attacked with his enthusiastic chatter.

"Guess what!" He practically yelled into her ear, "You sitting next to Blaise yesterday was the best thing that's ever happened to me!" He continued, bouncing off his seat. Hermione was a little shocked, and somewhat offended. Ron was supposed to _like_ her; surely he should have been upset that she'd chosen not to sit with him? Sulking slightly, she listened to the rest of what he had to say.

"Malfoy said that he'd rather do the whole project by himself than have to spend time with me, so I don't have to do anything! He's gonna do the whole thing himself! Two weeks of freedom for me!" Ron continued, chuckling to himself as Hermione glanced behind her at Malfoy in surprise.

It was no shock to her that he would want to avoid spending time with Ron at any cost, but she'd always assumed he was the intelligent-but-lazy type, she'd envisioned the two arguing fiercely about who was going to do the hard work, yet here the blond boy was, willingly taking on the whole project himself, despite doing it for the wrong reasons.

Hermione chuckled to herself smugly. It seemed rather a lot of good had come from crossing over to the other side for a while.

* * *

After the revelations of the morning, the day passed rather uneventfully for Hermione, but she couldn't help the dread which filled her thoughts as it approached dinner time. After dinner, she and Blaise were going to study together for the first time...

In the Slytherin common room.

She wished they could, instead, retire to her own common room to study, but she had a feeling they'd get no peace now that every Gryffindor seemed intent on talking to Blaise at every opportunity.

So, with a dry mouth and rapidly beating heart, Hermione made her way into the Great Hall for dinner. Glancing nervously over to the Slytherin table, she noticed that Blaise had already finished his meal, but was sitting calmly listening to the conversation going on around him. Malfoy was next to him, laughing about something with Pansy Parkinson whose hand, Hermione could tell, was resting casually on his thigh below the table.

Hermione snorted. It was no secret that Pansy liked Malfoy, but the way she threw herself at him left no room for sympathy, and whilst the personal life of the Slytherins had nothing to do with her, Hermione couldn't help but revel in the gossip which constantly surrounded their Prince. She was still a teenage girl after all.

Hermione chose a seat which allowed her to keep an eye on Blaise so that she could see when he got up to leave. She was hoping, despite the fact that she'd barely begun to eat, that it would be soon as she could see that Malfoy would be staying in the hall for a long time and Hermione hoped to be set up in the Slytherin common room before he got there. Surely if she and Blaise were already working quietly in a corner when he arrived, he would feel no need to interrupt...

Hermione found herself gazing at the blond haired boy, and quickly attempted to avert her eyes, only to find herself staring at Blaise Zabini. He was staring back. Hermione could feel her cheeks colouring as their eyes locked. Had he seen her staring at Malfoy?

Whether he had or not, his face remained blank as ever, his head inclined slightly towards the door. Hermione understood that they were going to leave now.

Pushing her almost-full plate in front of Ron, who'd already scoffed down his third portion, and muttering hushed goodbyes to the Gryffindors around her, Hermione made her way to the entrance hall clumsily.

In a far more dignified manner, Blaise excused himself wordlessly from the Slytherin table, and paced slowly to the exit of the Great Hall.

Malfoy watched him go, his sharp eyes catching the image of his best friend striding confidently towards their common room with his enemy in tow. Something inside him clenched in anger and, shrugging off Pansy's clutching hands, he wordlessly removed himself from the hall, following the odd couple towards the dungeons.

The two walked silently, Hermione too nervous to monologue, and upon reaching the blank stretch of wall which was the entrance to the Slytherin dorms, she stood back to allow Blaise to enter first, before following him in.

Draco watched from around the corner, his heart pounding in anger as the mudblood stepped into his dormitory.

* * *

The Slytherin common room was empty as Blaise and Hermione walked in. Hermione stood awkwardly by the entrance, feeling as though she was trespassing on enemy territory. Blaise immediately walked to the back of the room, to a carved wooden table with matching chairs. Despite their hard exterior, they looked like the most comfortable things in the room in which almost everything was made of stone.

Blaise set his bag on the floor and pulled out his potions book before looking up and beckoning Hermione over with a lazy gesture.

As Hermione walked towards him, she couldn't help but feel like she was being watched from all sides. It was ridiculous to feel so out of place. This was still Hogwarts after all, still her home. But the Slytherin dorms were different, the greenish tinge which was emitted from every surface gave the room an ethereal feel, and Hermione felt light headed as the approached the tall boy and sat on the hard seat beside him. Blaise sensed her nervousness and felt that the best way to help her relax was to begin work.

"Where shall we begin?" He said in his soft, steady voice. It was a calming sound, and Hermione immediately felt more comfortable as she delved into the research for their project.

Even when working together, Blaise didn't speak much, but he didn't have to. For the first time, Hermione felt like the work was shared equally between them. She found that she enjoyed spending time with Blaise, he was intelligent and hard working, and on the rare occasions where she got to see parts of his personality, she was impressed by his rationality and kindness. He was the perfect example of a _good_ Slytherin, and that evening when she left the dorms, she felt a great weight lifted from her shoulders.

They'd worked together for two hours and none of the Slytherins who came and went took any notice of them. Malfoy was nowhere to be found, and none of the others seemed to feel the need to bother her.

The passageway outside was dark, but even so, Hermione couldn't help the smile that graced her face. She felt a personal sort of achievement in having made it through two hours in the Slytherin dorms alive.

She walked contentedly in the direction of the entrance hall and turned the corner with a spring in her step, before she suddenly found herself stumbling backwards.

A strong hand gripped her forearm, tugging her forward, and she found herself pulled flush against Draco Malfoy, her other arm clutching his shoulder instinctively. Hermione's heart immediately began pounding with dread and she could feel the colour draining from her face.

Malfoy's hand was still wrapped firmly around her, his grip causing a dull but growing pain in her forearm. Hermione's eyes connected with his, the hatred emitting from them permeating her body, the grey intensity of his stare chilling her. Her vision began to blur as she got lost in his cold eyes, before she was brought back to clarity as Malfoy slammed her hard against the dungeon wall.

His body loomed over hers, his features sharp even in the darkness and his penetrating gaze still fixated on her eyes. His hand pinned her arm against the cold stone wall, his hard body pressed against her, crushing the hand on his shoulder between them.

"Stay away from Blaise," he said, his voice low, rough and menacing, "you may think you get special treatment because you're Gryffindor's perfect prefect, but around here you're just a mudblood. Don't think we'll forget that." She knew he spoke for the entire Slytherin house when he said that, and she knew they'd follow him no matter what he decided to do. Except, she thought, perhaps Blaise...

The intensity of Malfoy's expression and the rapid pounding of his heart against her left her in no doubt that his threat was serious. She was surprised at her own strength, surprised that tears weren't rolling down her cheeks, but she knew equally that she was in a very dangerous position. She had been right about Malfoy. His strength far exceeded Ron's; the chest pressed against hers was muscular and firm and she couldn't help but imagine what he could do to her if she gave him any reason to harm her, he may not have been the most powerful wizard, but his skill was not to be taken lightly, besides, she couldn't help but think there was more to him than met the eye...

She was finding it difficult to breathe, whether through fear or the sheer pressure of his body against hers, and she became painfully aware that he was waiting for her response to his words.

He raised his second hand to grip her hair when she didn't answer and pulled her head away from the wall roughly.

All she could manage was a small nod in response as she finally succeeded in tearing her gaze away from his, turning her face away from him.

He held her there for a few moments, his face almost touching her hair, his warm breath cascading across her soft, exposed neck whilst his heart continued its strong beat beneath her.

He could smell her, and closed his eyes inhaling her aroma for a second, gripping her forearm tighter still, then he slammed her head hard against the wall, her arm following and emitting a dull thud as it made contact with the hard stone, before he released her and strode away into the darkness.

For a moment Hermione couldn't move. Her vision blurring once again, her long coiled hair covering her face, and then in one, slow, graceful movement she sunk to the floor, putting her hands out to stop her from falling over completely. She sat on the cold stone surface, her heart pounding rapidly, her chest heaving as she tried to steady her breath, her cheeks colouring at the scene which had just unfolded. He had been so close to her. She had felt his breath on her neck...she touched it now running her fingers across the smooth skin before burying them in her hair and gripping her head.

What must have been adrenaline coursed through her and she wondered if anyone would find her there. She waited for a while, catching her breath, before she realised that no surprise-hero was going to save her this time. Picking herself up off the floor, she reached down to pick up her bag which had fallen, only to recoil as a sharp pain shot through her arm. She could still feel his handprint on her skin, hot as though it were made of flames. She picked her bag up with the other arm and slung it over her shoulder, then straightening herself up and adjusting her uniform with one hand she slowly headed towards her common room.

* * *

No one paid much attention to Draco as he waltzed solemnly into the Slytherin dorms. His housemates knew when he was in a bad mood, and knew it was best to avoid him. One boy, however, followed his every movement with his eyes from across the room. Blaise watched his best friend enter his bedroom and slam the door behind him with bored eyes, but beneath the carved wooden table, his hand was curled into a tight fist.

* * *

**A/N - what do you think? Please tell me if you think any characters are going TOO OOC. I feel like I can take liberties with Blaise considering the books don't explore his character too deeply, but if you feel he is being portrayed incorrectly please tell me!**

**I hope you enjoyed this instalment of Bad Boys. Reviews are very much appreciated **** x**


	7. Playing with fire

**A/N – Hey guys. I'm sorry for the slightly late update (although that's nothing compared to the months I've left people waiting previously xD) – I actually had this read to post over the weekend but there was an error on the site which wouldn't let me update...most frustrating...that's normally the sort of thing that would make me stop writing for another few months but no! I've gotten really into writing this now (I spend have my time at school drawing scenes from it *facepalm*) so because of the delay, I had time to start the next chapter! So that should be up soon. Enjoy! **

**So... I watched Moulin Rouge for the first time since I was a kid, and for the first time I actually understood everything that was going on and...well...you can imagine...I am a changed person! Initially, this chapter was going to end completely differently...I hope you prefer how I've now written it...if not...blame the movie! **

Hermione entered the Gryffindor common room with a sense of relief. Now she was safe. Now she was home. She had intended to go straight to bed, but the moment she climbed through the portal, she was ambushed by Lavender, who seemed to have forgotten that she was supposed to be annoyed at Hermione for leaving her waiting in the common room.

"Oh my Merlin," she began, and Hermione tuned out for another one of Lavender's rants, her mind busy with thoughts of Malfoy, "so you know how you said that Blaise was actually a kind of nice guy even though he's in Slytherin, yeah? So I thought, 'if Hermione thinks he's so nice, he can't be too bad' so I like _talked_ to him...well...talked _at_ him really...doesn't say much, does he? Anyway, so there I was talking to him, and there he was looking at me with those _amazing_ eyes and I suddenly realised! Oh my Merlin, we've been missing out on some _serious_ hotties by avoiding the Slytherins! I mean, I know some of them are evil and blah blah blah, but really, have you _seen_ Blaise's butt? I mean, we all know Malfoy's irresistible, but _Blaise_..."

Hermione looked up at the mention of Malfoy, but luckily, Lavender didn't seem to clock the change. What was she talking about? Hermione wasn't sure. She couldn't concentrate on much other than the scene with Malfoy replaying in her mind. Already the details of their encounter had begun to blur, but she wanted desperately to remember everything that had happened. The moment Lavender took a breath, Hermione interrupted her.

"Haha, yeah you're right, anyway, I'm really tired so I'm going to bed now, see you later!" Hermione said as enthusiastically as she could, hoping that her response would satisfy her friend and make sense in the context of whatever it was Lavender had been talking about.

As Hermione made her way up the stairs, Lavender looked after her in shock. Had Hermione just admitted that Blaise Zabini was hot? Did Hermione agree that his butt was divine? Did Hermione _like_ Blaise? Lavender had a lot to be thinking about, and ran giggling to a corner of the common room to share her thoughts with Ginny.

Hermione's dorm room was dark when she entered, the only light coming from the moonlight shining through the old windows, and she decided to keep it that way. She'd already done all her work for the evening and wanted to get an early night. Dumping her bag by her bed, she moved to take off her school jumper and a searing pain shot through her arm. Fumbling for her wand in her pocket, she used it to pull up her sleeve and inspect the damage.

Deep purple marks were blossoming on her forearm, but she was too tired to deal with it right now. She opened a drawer in the table next to her bed where she kept a small stash of muggle medical supplies and pulled out an off-white bandage which she wrapped gently around her arm with her wand. Her hand subconsciously stroked the area which had been bruised, as if her touch alone would heal it, then without bothering to get undressed, she got into bed and promptly fell into a dreamless sleep.

When Hermione awoke the next morning, she found herself alone in her dorm room. Surprised that Lavender had managed to haul herself out of bed before her, she quickly checked her alarm clock only to find a note attached to it, covered in Lavender's wand-writing.

_You looked like you were having a good dream and we didn't want to wake you...perhaps it was about a certain Slytherin...? ;)  
L xx_

Hermione's brow furrowed. She hadn't dreamt about Malfoy had she? She couldn't remember dreaming about anything...but then she rarely did.

Placing the note carefully on her bedside table, she caught sight of the clock which read 8:50. '_Grindelwald_!' she cursed under her breath, hopping out of bed with far more energy than she felt she possessed. Potions class was due to start in ten minutes.

Hermione, who thought it was of the utmost importance to ensure that magic didn't allow one to become lazy, always brushed her hair and folded her clothing manually, but today she didn't have time, so with a flick of her wand, she got herself ready to start the day ahead and rushed out of her dorm room in the hopes of getting to the dungeons on time.

She arrived, extremely short of breath, with a few minutes to spare and, smiling happily, made a mental note to kill Lavender later. Opening the door to the dungeon classroom slowly, she saw that most of the students were already assembled. Draco Malfoy was leaning against the teacher's desk facing the door, as if he'd been waiting for her. Their eyes met across the room and Hermione's heart gave an instantaneous reaction.

The only two empty seats were on either side of him. One next to Blaise, the other next to Ron.

Was he testing her?

She began rubbing her arm subconsciously remembering the searing heat of his touch the previous day. His gaze remained steadily fixed upon her as she began to move towards the front of the classroom.

She kept her paces steady, giving no indication of which side she was planning to sit on. She stubbornly kept his gaze until eventually they were standing only a metre or so away from each other, before turning to take her seat.

Draco was in front of her like shot, his hand extended in preparation to push her away if necessary.

"Haven't you learned from your mistake yet Granger?" He said pleasantly, his eyes carrying a silent warning.

"What on earth do you mean?" Hermione replied, blinking innocently, "This is my seat now." With a gracious smile she tried to sidestep the blond-haired boy to take her seat, but in an attempt to stop her, he reached forward and grabbed her forearm. Pain seared through her body once again, and although she kept her face neutral so that the many spectators saw nothing out of the ordinary, her arm jerked back involuntarily at the pain.

Malfoy's sharp eyes flicked down to look at her arm, and his brow furrowed when he saw the muggle bandage. He took a small step towards her, his arm reaching out to her slowly, but once again she flinched away from him.

His eyes returned to hers, but this time they held no threat, merely a look of confusion. His eyes flicked between her arm and her face. He appeared angry, but made no move to touch her.

The class watched in silent confusion. The two prefects seemed to just be...looking at each other...

At that moment, Snape entered the classroom, and like a deer caught in the headlights, Draco ran to his seat beside Ron. Hermione watched him go, herself confused by what had just happened.

"Miss Granger...would you care to take your seat?" Professor Snape barked as he took his place behind his desk.

"Yes sir, sorry." She said, shooting one last glance Malfoy, only to see that his eyes were on her. Hermione couldn't help but shiver slightly, but she was glad that she'd stood her ground. Malfoy may be stronger than her, but she knew that she could out-spell the Slytherin any day and she made a mental note to keep her wand at hand whenever she went to the Slytherin dorms in the future.

The lesson began and Hermione started making notes, her injured arm resting cautiously on the desk. She hoped that today would be a theory lesson and that she wouldn't have to do any manual potion-making before she went to visit Madam Pomfrey.

It appeared she was in luck as Snape began writing passages from old Potions tomes on the board for them to copy up.

A few minutes into the lesson, while Snape was busy searching for a particular section of text in a particularly dusty book, Hermione jumped as Blaise cautiously touched her injured arm. Her head whipped round to look at the quiet boy and she found his beautiful, deep eyes staring into hers. His movements were slower than usual as he lifted her arm from the desk and placed it on his knee.

His eyes remained fixed on hers as if asking her permission to be touching her.

Completely taken in by his intense gaze, Hermione nodded slowly and watched as he, with the gentlest hands, began to unwrap the bandage on her arm.

Hermione was worried that others may see what was underneath the cloth, but Blaise had positioned himself carefully so that those behind them couldn't see what was happening.

Once uncovered, he ran his hand gently over her arm. She herself was shocked at what she saw, the deep bruise of last night had grown and darkened and now covered about half her forearm.

Moving ever slowly and cautiously, Blaise reached into his pocket, his eyes now fixed on Professor Snape so that he could stop the moment the stern teacher looked over, and pulled out his wand. It was long and made of dark wood with a severe shape, but when he pressed it tenderly against her flesh, she felt the pain immediately recede from her injury, as well as the colour on her skin.

Hermione's eyes widened involuntarily.

"Why...?" She began softly, but Blaise placed a finger against his lips, tilting his head towards Professor Snape who had begun lecturing again. Nevertheless, Hermione couldn't take her eyes off him. Being cordial was one thing, but he'd just healed her injury...did that make them...friends? Blaise held her gaze for a moment before giving the first real smile Hermione had ever seen from him and returning his focus to the textbook before him. Hermione, although shocked, did the same, holding in her astonishment.

They were friends.

From across the classroom, Malfoy watched Hermione's small smile with dejection. He'd told her to stay away from Blaise. Why couldn't she just do as she was told?

"Err...Malfoy?" Ron asked tentatively from his right. The blond boy's head flicked round quickly.

"What do you want Weasel?" He asked slightly flustered but with the usual vehemence in his voice. Ron peered round him, his brow furrowed, in an attempt to see what Malfoy had been staring at. All he could see was Hermione.

"What were you looking at?" He asked innocently.

"What does it matter?" Malfoy retorted defensively, "Are you going to do any work or not? Just because I said I'll write the project by myself doesn't mean you can sit around gazing into space all lesson!" Weasley looked as though he was about to respond, then thought better of it, and, pouting slightly, returned to his work.

He was interrupted a few seconds later by Malfoy's voice.

"Hey Weasley, you like the mudblood, don't you?" Draco asked ponderously.

"Don't call her a,"

"Just answer the question." Draco snapped in return, awaiting the redhead's response with an eagerness that he did not understand.

"Well...yeah..." Ron began, his face colouring slightly, "I guess...yeah. I do." He finished with determination, his face now almost as red as his hair.

"But you don't mind that she chose to sit next to Zabini instead of you?" Malfoy suggesting provokingly. He couldn't help but wonder why this boy who was supposed to be in love with the mudblood could watch her sitting next to Blaise without even a hint of jealousy.

"Well I guess I just thought..." Ron began, his brow furrowing slightly in confusion, why _was_ she sitting next to Blaise? Didn't she like _him_?

"You just thought?" Draco prompted, a small smirk gracing his features.

"I...hey, why _is_ she sitting next to him?" Draco chuckled at the Gryffindor's sudden outburst. _Merlin, these blood traitors are slow_, he thought, his lip curling slightly...then suddenly Draco was hit with inspiration. Chuckling slightly, he turned to look at Blaise and Hermione, before peering back at his partner over his shoulder.

"I reckon she likes him." Malfoy said, his voice steady, hoping to elicit a reaction from the red haired boy.

"Well...she says he's a nice guy, if that's what you mean, a nice Slytherin...but...do you mean...do you mean she _likes_ him?" Weasley looked appalled at the sudden realisation which had occurred to him. Of course she liked Blaise, she had too! Why else would she choose to sit next to him and not Ron? _I have to do something about this..._Ron thought angrily.

"Hold on a second Weasley," Draco said innocently, interrupting the Gryffindor's internal ranting "Who said anything about _liking_ him? Tsk, always jumping to conclusions...get back to work!" Draco smiled with satisfaction as Ron looked across the classroom at the two, clearly angry at the thought that Hermione could like anyone other than him.

Draco chuckled under his breath at how easy the redhead was to fool. 

Ron Weasley was on a mission, and his ego was at stake.

He had to know once and for all, for certain, if Hermione liked him. He'd been so sure that she was smitten with him, he'd given her time to 'think things through' knowing that in the end she'd choose to be with him but...

But then why did she seem so close to Blaise? And how had he not noticed it until now...

Just a few days ago they'd never spoken to each other before, and now they were exchanging secret smiles in potions class?

Those were his smiles!

Malfoy had been right. Something was clearly going on between them, and he had to stop it before he lost her.

With this in mind, Ron headed towards the Great Hall for lunch, Harry on his left talking to Ginny and Lavender who had joined them on the way, and Hermione lagging behind walking with...Blaise.

Glancing back at the two, Ron could see Hermione talking at the boy. He didn't reply, but he was smiling slightly. Ron couldn't help but grind his teeth. Stupid silent boy making Hermione like him.

Upon reaching the Hall, Ron hung back in the entrance, telling Harry to go ahead, which he did with Ginny, although Lavender decided to stay behind to keep Ron company. He didn't mind. Most of the time he found Lavender a rather agreeable person to be around, she didn't make him feel stupid like Hermione, and she didn't make him feel jealous like Harry. She was a comfortable sort of person to spend time with, although they had, of course, gone through a rather awkward phase after breaking up. But that was all behind them now.

As Hermione rounded the corner with Blaise, Ron stepped away from the wall he'd been leaning against to try and catch her before she went in to lunch.

"Hermione," He said simply, and she and Blaise turned to look at him as one.

"Freaky..." Lavender whispered under her breath at the synchronisation of the pair.

Ron beckoned her forward and Hermione turned to Blaise to say goodbye before approaching him with a mounting sense of dread. Was her 'time to think things through' up?

"Ronald?" She asked, her voice calm and her tone cool despite her internal panic.

"Um I just wanted to ask you..." he began nervously, "well...look it's not that I'm jealous or anything, you can do whatever you want, I don't care but like...do you..._like_ Blaise?" When he'd finished, Ron raised his head to look into her eyes.

Hermione cocked one eyebrow sceptically. This was not what she'd been expecting at all.

"No." She said simply. "I mean, he's perfectly nice and everything, and I really feel like we've been bonding these past few days but...well..._no_..." She repeated, laughing slightly at the fact that Ron had asked her this.

Ron smiled in relief and was about to move forward to hug Hermione, before Lavender interrupted him.

"Oh come on!" she cried in exasperation, "You were saying just last night how good looking you think he is! You said you liked his butt and..."

"His butt!" Ron cried, his eyes flicking to Hermione's face in panicked shock, his voice becoming high pitched.

"What?" Hermione asked in utter confusion, "No, no Lavender you've got it all wrong..." Hermione began, raising her hands before her in a defensive position, "I don't like..." Lavender gasped in shock.

"So you _lied_ to me?" She asked, her mouth gaping open in outrage.

"No I didn't you just..."

"So you're saying _I'm_ a liar?" Lavender said, her overdramatic nature revealing itself as she fanned her face rapidly with her hand, her eyes looking upwards in an attempt to get rid of the tears which threatened to start pouring down her cheeks at any moment.

"No!" Hermione groaned, clutching her head in aggravation, "It was all just a big misunderstanding!"

"So you _do _like me?" Ron asked suddenly, his eyes wide as a great smile lit up his face.

"No, I," Hermione began before she was cut off by Ron whose facial expression had changed dramatically in the space of a second.

"So...you d-don't like me?" He asked, his eyes giving the air of a distraught lost puppy, his lower lip quivering slightly.

"I...look Ron, it's just that..."

"Granger!"

Hermione spun round to see who had called her, preparing to thank them for saving her from such an awkward situation, only to see that it was Malfoy.

He was standing awkwardly in the middle of the entrance hall, shifting from foot to foot. Hermione's eyes narrowed as she looked at him. What did he want?

"Granger," he repeated, moving towards her slightly, "Snape...err...Professor Snape," he continued awkwardly, "He um...wants to talk to you. In his office. Right now."

Hermione gazed at him awestruck. Was he...trying to help her? He seemed uncomfortable under her gaze, and averted his eyes towards what seemed to be a particularly interesting painting on the wall.

There was an awkward silence for a moment, broken only by the continued commotion coming from those eating lunch in the Great Hall.

Lavender was gazing worriedly at Ron, who was gazing at Hermione, whose gaze flicked between her red-haired friend and her blond enemy.

Draco cautiously raised his eyes again to look at Hermione. He was extremely unsure of why he was doing this or how she was going to react, but stumbling across those two giving her such a hard time had made him feel...well...guilty.

A silent tension was killing him, and Hermione was just...looking at him.

...

"Right," she said eventually, breaking the stupor, "I suppose I mustn't keep the Professor waiting..." without looking back at Ron or Lavender, Hermione walked cautiously towards Malfoy, his heart rate hastened as she neared him.

When she came within a few metres of him, he raised his arm in the direction of the dungeons and they turned together, walking away from the Gryffindors behind them.

"Professor Snape doesn't really want to talk to you..." Draco said in a hushed voice as they paced slowly towards Snape's office.

"Yes Malfoy I'd gathered that." Hermione replied, squaring her shoulders as she walked in preparation for whatever was to come. They kept walking slowly, neither looking back until they knew they were out of site of the entrance hall, then Draco glanced guardedly behind him to make sure neither of the Gryffindors had followed them, before grabbing Hermione's jumper and pulling her into the alcove on his right.

Her hand immediately came up to slap him but he caught her wrist instinctively.

"Relax Granger..." He said quietly, his brow furrowing slightly, "I just helped you out, didn't I?" He could feel her stiffening beneath him and, realising his position and how close he was to her, quickly released his grip on her sleeve and moved backwards, leaning casually against the opposite wall of the alcove.

"You can't blame me for expecting something a little less...friendly..." Hermione said, confusion in her voice as she straightened her uniform. Was it true? Had he been...friendly? Had he been trying to help her?

Draco sighed across from her and, peering up at him, she saw him drop his head as he loosened his tie.

Even from the alcove they were in they could still hear the noise of the students having lunch from the Great Hall, though it was dim, however there was no one else around, and Hermione became extremely aware of the fact that they were alone.

Malfoy didn't appear to be intending to move any time soon, so Hermione, feeling that she couldn't just leave him like this after he'd helped her avoid such an awkward situation, took the opportunity to take in her surroundings. That's when she clocked where she was.

It was the alcove in which Professor Snape had discovered her, where she'd spent that afternoon after Ron had attempted to kiss her. _Oh the irony_...she thought, glancing across at Malfoy again, a small smile playing on her lips as she attempted to hide her chuckle. That was when he decided to look up.

Draco felt a strange kind of emotion when he looked up and saw the Gryffindor prefect smiling at him. He still hated her, of course, but he felt glad somehow that he'd earned the same privilege that his best friend had already received of seeing her smile. He was an extremely competitive person after all.

Thinking of Blaise reminded him of what he had witnessed during the potions class, and his eyes moved from the girl's face to her arm. He moved towards her again slowly, and this time she didn't flinch. He reached out slowly and, as gently as he could, feeling as though he were dealing with an animal who would run away at the first sudden movement, took her arm in his hands and pulled back the sleeve of her jumper.

The skin was smooth and flawless. As he had thought, Blaise had healed her. A hot flash of something sharp rushed through his body at the thought, and he had the urge to throw her against the stone wall all over again but, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, he repressed the anger within him and released her arm.

She drew it back to her body immediately, caressing it with her other hand while her gaze remained fixed on the boy in front of her. His eyes were closed peacefully but his lips were pursed and his arms were shaking slightly. She waited for a moment, still gently brushing the place his hand had touched on her arm, leaving a trail of fire across her skin once again.

As she waited, he seemed to gain control of himself, his arms stopped shaking and he became perfectly still, but his lips remained pursed. Hermione cocked her head to the side and, feeling no danger from this unmoving figure, abruptly raised her hand to brush a finger along his lips, fascinated by their feel.

His eyes opened suddenly, and Hermione immediately drew her hand back, clutching her arm again, as her face coloured slightly. She gazed at him with wide eyes, awaiting his next move, but he remained still, his eyes gazing motionlessly into hers, his chest rising and falling rapidly.

She felt like she should say something, apologise for her incomprehensible action, but no words came to her mind. She merely returned his gaze, her chest moving steadily in time with his.

After an immeasurable amount of time, Draco broke their trance, taking a small step towards her, their eyes remaining connected. Neither of them understood what was happening. Neither of them were thinking, caught in the moment they forgot that they hated each other, and when Draco brushed his lips softly against hers, Hermione couldn't help herself and released an aching sigh before returning his kiss with a longing neither of them knew she possessed.


	8. Spinning

Spinning my mind

Hermione's eyes opened as she felt his presence draw away from her. Looking up, her eyes connected with his, the stormy grey intensity seeming to swallow her whole. That had been her first kiss. Her first proper kiss. It wasn't at all like people had said it would be. Lavender had told her on numerous occasions how her first had been wet and rather disgusting. Secretly Hermione thought that might have had something to do with her choice of partner. But this kiss…it was everything she'd expected and more, not that she'd been expecting it of course...Malfoy...

She'd kissed..._Malfoy_? Hermione's mind seemed to zoom out of his intoxicating eyes to see the full picture. And it wasn't pretty.

Oh Merlin…

Malfoy seemed to clock the change in her expression, and his eyes immediately hardened, his hand, which she had not noticed before, dropping swiftly from her neck. They seemed to come to the realisation of what they had just done at the same point, their eyes widening in synchronisation. Hermione spoke the first words which bubbled to her lips.

"I-I'm sorry," she began quickly, her breath coming rapidly, they were still extremely close to one another, but his presence which moments before had been strangely blissful suddenly seemed menacing. She knew how angry he must be that someone like her had touched him, and yet…it had felt like he'd responded…

What had she been thinking? She didn't even like the boy before her, and yet she could hardly deny the reaction her body had to his proximity, her entire being was energised by his mere presence, whilst just days before she'd rejected her best friend, the person she trusted most in the world, when he'd tried to kiss her. It was madness, but Hermione's sharp mind was insisting to her rapidly beating heart that her attraction to the boy was merely physical, after all, who was she kidding? He was gorgeous – everyone knew it, but she knew better than most that his personality was a rather large drawback.

Embarrassed, but determined not to show this boy any more weakness, Hermione inhaled deeply pulling up to her fullest height and repeated her apology with dignity, her chin held high. At least she was acknowledging that she'd made a mistake, after her apology there could be no confusion about what had just happened, obviously it had been a complete accident...their lips had just...somehow...gah.

Malfoy watched her with an increasingly intimidating gaze. He couldn't understand why she was apologising. His thoughts replayed the moment before with mounting anger. Who had initiated the kiss? He wanted desperately to believe that it had been Granger throwing herself at him in a moment of blinded lust but, despite his reputation, Draco had a strong sense of internal justice, and he knew that he was also to blame.

What could possibly have possessed him to kiss this disgusting excuse for a witch? Sure, he'd readily admit that he'd been paying more attention to her lately, but how could he not when she was hanging around his common room constantly and spending time with his best friend? And sure, he might have been a little...overprotective of his friend...but how could he possibly justify kissing her as an answer to the problem? And how could it have felt so right to kiss a mudblood when everything he knew told him they were beneath him?

Of course, he knew that Granger was intelligent, it would be foolish to suggest otherwise, and yet he maintained his hatred for her and everyone else related to Potter because that was what was right…

Regret flooded through him, what the fuck had he been thinking? And what about her! He was sure she'd returned his kiss…hadn't she? She was supposed to be intelligent! How could she let something like this happen...

Oh Shit, he thought, seeing her face before him, was she going to go around telling people he'd assaulted her? He sort of already had of course, he thought sheepishly remembering the incident in the dungeons, but that wasn't his fault, he'd just felt so…so _angry_. Angry that she was spending time with his best friend. Angry that she liked him. He felt a similar anger brewing within him now as her stubborn gaze met his.

He regretted what he'd done, and was disgusting to have shared something so intimate with the mudblood, but somehow the worst thing in his mind was that she seemed so offended by the act. He'd never been with a girl who hadn't come away from him begging for more, trust Granger to be different...had she thought he was a bad kisser? Draco shook himself internally, berating himself for worrying about such stupid things when a much more important issue was at stake.

_He'd kissed a fucking mudblood_...what would his father think? His father would never know, of course, but the older Malfoy's voice had become something of a guiding force in Draco's mind, which had become quite adept at imagining what he would say under such circumstances. Of course he'd be disowned from the family. All because of a fucking mudblood.

His breath came more rapidly as the hatred surged within him, his angry gaze still connected to hers, his brow furrowed. It was just hate, he told himself, hate was a passionate emotion, and Merlin knew he hated Potter and all his cronies with a passion, the kiss was just...an unusual expression of those emotions. But what was going to happen between them now? What if she thought that the kiss was more than just his hatred bursting through? Surely she wouldn't delude herself into thinking he actually cared for her...

Even if it was just a manifestation of his hatred for the mudblood, he couldn't deny that the kiss had been explosive...she knew he hated her, and he knew she hated him and the damage had already been done...so what was wrong with a...couple more friendly kisses? Shaking himself again he reminded himself that meaningful or not, it was a sin to kiss a mudbood.

Hermione was scared by his expression, fearing a repeat of what had happened in the dungeons; she wouldn't put it past the bastard to start blaming her for everything that had happened...although...she couldn't really tell who had initiated the kiss...

Confusion coiled within her, had _she_ kissed _him_? Or had it been the other way round... she had thought herself able to resist the petty desires of her female housemates, yet she couldn't deny that whoever had started the kiss, she hadn't pulled away from this man who hated her, and who she hated in return.

Hermione forced herself to remember that everything about her disgusted him, and whilst she didn't used to care, the thought now left a slight twist in her chest.

The silence, which could have lasted forever as mental battles raged within the two prefects, was broken by the noise of students leaving the Great Hall still some way off, but it was enough to snap both students out of their reverie. They could not be caught here. Alone.

Draco seemed to make his mind up in that split second and, moving with lightening speed, gripped her shoulder forcefully but not hard enough to hurt her and pointed his finger in her face menacingly.

"Not a word," he said shaking his head slightly, his breath becoming shallow and quick as his eyes darted around the corridor. She could tell he was nervous, but his voice had sounded almost..._pleading_. For a moment she couldn't reply, but then she nodded fervently.

"Go." He said then, releasing his hold on her jumper. She slipped away without hesitation, heading for the staircases which would take her to her next class. Draco pressed his forehead against the wall she'd just occupied and banged his fist gently on the cold stone as the first students from the Great Hall began to pass him. He could only hope she'd have the sense to keep quiet.

The students passed by without paying attention to him, he seemed to melt into the dark alcove despite his vibrant hair colour, which seemed rather symbolic to Draco. Once the last of the straggling first years had dissipated, Draco twisted round, leaning his back against the wall and sighed again. Looking around cautiously, he lifted his arm and pulled back the sleeve of his jumper revealing the dark lines etched into his skin. _This is what you believe_, he heard his father's voice say in his head as he closed his eyes.

Taking a deep breath, he pushed away from the wall and headed towards his next class.

* * *

Ron waited nervously in defence against the dark arts, he had some things to clear up with Hermione and he was hoping desperately that it would all turn out for the best. When he and Lavender had entered lunch, she still sulking, he feeling rather sorry for himself, a certain Professor had swept past them, a certain Professor who was supposed to be in his office waiting for Hermione, a certain Professor that Malfoy was supposed to be taking her to see. Ron had frozen as he watched his least favourite teacher seat himself at the high table. If Snape was here, what was Malfoy doing with Hermione?

But before he could even ponder the possibility of heroically going to rescue her, Lavender had grabbed his arm and hauled him down into the seat next to her, where he promptly became so distracted by lunch that he forgot all about Hermione.

Until now. She walked into the classroom only seconds before the lesson was due to start and took her place beside Harry. Ron peered around his black-haired friend to get a good look at her. She didn't look like she'd been brutally attacked by the Slytherin Prince as Ron had feared...in fact she looked entirely normal...but he had to know what had happened.

Pulling out his quill, Ron carefully tore off a piece of parchment and scratched a hasty message onto it which he slid across the tabletop in front of Harry to Hermione.

She picked the note up without moving her eyes from the text she was copying from the blackboard, and unfolded it carefully, smoothing it on the desk before darting her eyes down to read it.

_What did Snape want to talk to you about? Stupid git x_

Hermione's face remained neutral as she read the note and, scribbling a hurried reply, levitated the note back to Ron who opened it hastily not bothering to check if the Professor was looking.

_The potions assignment Ronald, what else? Now I suggest you concentrate and stop distracting Harry with your notes. You both need to pay attention -I won't be in the common room tonight to help you do your homework._

Ron's heart gave a painful squeeze. First she sat with a Slytherin and abandoned him in potions, and now she was lying to him...this girl who just days before had seemed to be head over heels in love with him...Usually Ron would have chuckled at the ever-baffling intricacies of women, but Hermione wasn't a woman. She was the girl who'd been his best friend since first year. The girl he trusted above anyone else; and now she was lying to him. It hurt him more than he cared to admit, even to himself. What had he done to deserve this from her? And more importantly...why did she feel the need to lie about it? What could possibly have happened that she wouldn't tell him about?

He couldn't decide whether to call her out on her lie. On the one hand, he was itching to know what the slimy git Malfoy had said to her, on the other hand, their relationship had already become so awkward over the past few days that he feared losing her forever if anything else happened which might tear them apart. Even Harry seemed to be drifting away from him these days, spending more time talking to Lavender and Ginny than him. Was this the result of his new attitude? Maybe Harry was jealous that he was no longer the only one in the limelight...

* * *

At the end of the day, Hermione went to find Blaise so they could continue working on their project. It was a Friday so they would be working in the library doing research. Despite the fact that Hermione was becoming increasingly comfortable in the Slytherin common room, she was glad she wouldn't have to face their dungeon dwellings today; another encounter with Malfoy was not particularly high on her list of things to do. In fact, it had been a miracle that she'd somehow managed to avoid him entirely at dinner.

Attempting to leave the Great Hall before Malfoy inevitably entered to take his meal, Hermione approached the Slytherin table to collect Blaise. Upon her arrival, he rose immediately from his seat causing a few of those Slytherins who had become more accustomed to Hermione's presence to raise their eyebrows, smirking. In an unusual display of emotion, Blaise sent a slight scowl in their direction before following Hermione out of the Great Hall.

The two walked in amicable silence towards the moving staircase. Blaise was quiet as usual, but this time Hermione didn't feel the need to fill the empty air with her monologues, she realised that she had become as comfortable around the tall boy as she used to be around Ron, and when he walked past the staircase in the direction of the dungeons instead of mounting the stairs for the library, she didn't hesitate to reach out and grab is arm.

He froze at the contact, his entire body stiffening in a moment.

Hermione blanched at his reaction but nevertheless reminded him in a steady tone that they were working in the library today, wondering whether she'd been too forward with this boy she'd only known for a few days. He nodded in acquiescence and walked past her up the stairs, slipping his arm from her grasp as he went. Hermione felt a sudden knot in her stomach. Had Draco told him about their kiss? Was that why he had seemed to shy away from her? She followed him nervously up the stairs, expecting him to whirl round and confront her at any moment, despite knowing that confrontation was not in his nature.

It appeared she had been worrying in vain, however, when, upon entering the library, Blaise returned to his studious yet friendly self. The two rapidly got lost in their work, Hermione delving herself into the crinkled pages of her favourite Potions anthology, quietly savouring the smell of old books which always lingered in the library and often clung to her very clothing after a long stint of studying. She worked happily for a while before Blaise pulled her out of her study-trance with his soft voice.

"Is something wrong?" he asked. Hermione looked up in surprise.

"No..." she replied immediately, but Blaise didn't look convinced.

"Something's different." He said, his eyes connecting with hers with an intensity that surprised her, "You're different. You seem...distracted." Hermione looked at him in confusion. She wasn't used to this. She wasn't used to someone seeing through her like this. She had been relying on the short-sightedness of the male species that she had experienced in Harry and Ron, and yet here was Blaise, a Slytherin no less, understanding her better than she did. Perhaps she _had_ been a little distracted...despite working for so long, she hadn't made nearly as much progress as she usually would have...

She looked into Blaise's eyes for a moment, wondering whether she should tell him what had happened with Draco, he was the middle ground between them after all, the only person they could both consider a friend...maybe he could explain their erratic behaviour? But she realised a moment later that she couldn't tell that secret. Not to him, not to anyone, and she broke his gaze, returning to her work.

She heard a small sigh beside her as he, too, began flicking through the pages of the books before him once more. She couldn't help but wonder if, by rejecting this offer of friendship from him, she had undone all the good that had occurred between them.

The two worked late into the night, mostly in silence, only quitting their studies when Madam Pince, the haughty librarian, felt the need to inform them that should they stay any longer, she would call the headmaster to deal with them. The two rolled their eyes at the librarian's behaviour and began packing up their books.

Hermione was about to leave the archives when Blaise's soft voice called her back.

"It's still half an hour 'till curfew," he stated from the table, "would you like to come back to the common room with me?" Hermione's heart gave a little leap at the offer, as a girl who had never been particularly popular, it was always exciting for her to be invited places with new friends, and by a Slytherin no less! But it didn't take her head long to remember that the Slytherin common rooms were not a place she wanted to be at the moment, lest she should run into their Prince.

"I...I'm sorry Blaise," she said, guilt and dismay welling up inside her, "I have to patrol tonight." It was a completely legitimate excuse, as prefect she was expected to patrol when it was her turn and could take on extra shifts if she wanted to, but tonight wasn't her turn and Blaise, unfortunately, knew that. Blaise said nothing as Hermione waited in the doorway. She didn't want to face him but she found that she couldn't move, her mind still waiting for him to reply. After a few moments of silence, Hermione turned around and immediately jumped at Blaise's proximity.

With a stealth that frightened her, he had managed to move to within a metre or so of her body and was now gazing at her with his unreadable eyes.

"You don't have to patrol tonight." He said simply, blinking once, but otherwise giving away no emotion. Hermione coloured immediately as the tall boy called her out on her lie, her embarrassment rising within her. As her mind attempted to formulate a reply, the quiet boy before her spoke again.

"But we can patrol together, if you'd like." Hermione raised her eyes in surprise but Blaise wasn't looking at her, for once his direct gaze was focussed downwards. Hermione's brow furrowed slightly as she looked at him, her heart swelling. She couldn't understand why he still wanted to spend time with her knowing that she'd lied to him...did he know the reason behind her reluctance to go to the Slytherin common rooms? Did he understand?

"Ok." She said, somewhat faintly as Blaise raised his head slowly. Their eyes connected and he offered a rare smile before walking past her into the dark corridor. She followed him in a daze, her heart leaping at the joy of having found a friend.

* * *

The two prefects walked together through the many corridors of the school, chatting quietly as they passed the dark alcoves and empty classrooms, Hermione was surprised at how talkative her companion was being and felt she'd somehow earned the right to see this side of his personality, and when she saw him laugh for the first time, she felt a genuine rush of warmth spread from her heart throughout her whole body. Looking at him that night, she felt as though they'd been destined to become friends.

Unnoticed by either, a silent figure watched them from the shadows, scowling and squinting through the darkness. _Interesting,_ he thought shrinking back into the gloom as the two turned a corner.

Skulking was in his nature, but Snape couldn't stop the small, twisted smile which graced his features as he watched his two favourite students getting along so well together. He couldn't help but think back to his own days at Hogwarts, he a shy, quiet Slytherin, she...she a beautiful, proud Gryffindor...

With a sorrowful sigh, Hermione's greasy guardian angel shuffled away through the dark corridors, his mind trapped as usual in the perpetual torments of his past.

**A/N Hey **** So I left the author's note to the end this time because I wanted last chapter and this chapter to flow together – the following note is quite long but it does explain some of the reasoning behind what's happening so it may be quite interesting to read **** I found this chapter quite difficult to finish, so I hope it turned out ok, sorry if it drooped towards the end...**

A note on Draco and Hermione. For starters, they do most definitely hate each other. However, the way I see it, their hatred is the sort that comes from being told repeatedly that you hate something without actually experiencing it yourself. From where I stand, the two couldn't possibly get together EVER if they had a real hatred which came from experiencing each other's personalities and disliking them. So my hypothesis is thus: their hatred comes from being taught by others that they must hate each other, and yet through their hatred they begin to experience one another's true personality, seeing the stubbornness and fieriness they share, and they begin to experience actual emotions (not just artificial hatred) for each other, and as this is the case, their poor brains which have, in essence, been washed (as in brainwashed) by society, struggle to find a way to express the emotions they have for each other (not necessarily romantic ones), starting with fighting, but leading to more. In my mind, their true emotions lie in their subconscious veiled by their artificial hatred, but the subconscious can kick in at any moment, stemming from something tiny like an awkward silence, or a moment of stillness. Hence, they kissed. But don't worry, it won't be that easy :P In Dramione fics, it never is.

**I know this has already been a massive author's note so I won't list everyone, but thanks to EVERYONE who reviewed – you all make me laugh so much! Hopefully this chapter/extensive author's note has answered some of your queries. Thank you all, the number of reviews has blown me away! 3**


	9. I know

**A/N: Hey – sorry it's been a little longer than usual with the update, but I started reading a few Dramione fics and got depressed by how good they are . Also...I think this chapter turned out a lot darker than I'd hoped it would be o.o I watched Sweeney Todd so that may have had an influence...I hope you like it though, bit of a plot development.**

**Thanks to everyone who reviewed, I always get excited when I open my emails and there's a nice long review waiting...  
Sharpestsatire...you have no idea how much love I have for you xD Your reviews literally make me squeal in excitement! xD Oh, and for the record, yes, OF COURSE I've read/seen P&P :D I named my cat Mr Darcy :P (he was black and quite big so we decided he was suitably tall dark and handsome.)**

Draco was pacing back and forth in the empty common room, his feet shuffling quickly over the flagstone floor. Each time her turned to retrace the steps he had just taken, he caught his reflection in the iron-framed mirror which stood on the opposite wall and shuddered. He couldn't sleep and it showed. His eyes looked sunken and heavy; his hair was, unusually, in disarray and his breath came quickly as he gazed at his reflection.

And then it happened again. His Master was calling him. A guttural whimper was wrenched from his throat as he thrashed his arm against the stone wall for the eighth time that night. The impact and coldness of the stone helped distract him from the unbearable stinging which travelled around his mark each time.

When it had stopped, Draco braced himself against the wall, placing a hand on either side of the mirror. He gazed into his own dark, mutinous eyes and tried to steady his breathing. Why did the Dark Lord do this to him? He knew that there was no way for Draco to leave Hogwarts during term time, and yet he insisted on torturing him, calling him, forcing a part of him to be torn away, only to find that it was trapped inside his body. Inside Hogwarts.

Draco couldn't decide whether he hated the school for causing him this pain, or appreciated it for protecting him from having to see his Master. Because being in the presence of the Dark Lord...

Draco shuddered and looked away from the mirror so he didn't have to see the fear and loathing that weren't supposed to be in his eyes.

_Fuck it_, he thought. There wasn't anything he could do about it now. In Draco's life, everything had always turned out okay, no matter how much shit he appeared to be in, he just rode it out and everything seemed to settle itself back into place. But he didn't think that was going to happen this time. He was marked now.

Draco slumped dejectedly against the mirror once more, his face pressed against the cold glass, his breath clouding the smooth surface as his eyes slipped shut. He really needed some sleep, but at that moment, Draco heard the heavy stone entrance to common room heave itself open and jumped up quickly.

It was time to become Malfoy again.

When Blaise entered the common room, Malfoy was already lounging lazily on an armchair, his legs slung over one of the arms and his face fixed into a nonchalant expression, but the minute he saw the taller boy, he seemed to relax and Blaise immediately saw how tired his blond house mate was.

Walking further into the room, Blaise loosened his tie before taking it off and chucking it onto the marble mantelpiece. The common room was supposed to be a communal area, but it was accepted that Malfoy and Zabini could do what they liked there, including leaving their things lying around.

Blaise paused for a moment looking at the boy in the chair, and then turned towards his dorm before Draco's voice called him back.

"Where have you been?" He asked, "Tonight wasn't your patrol night, was it?"

"I took an extra shift." The taller boy replied simply without turning to look at his fellow Slytherin. Draco snorted.

"With that mudblood I bet." He said nonchalantly, adjusting his position so that he was more comfortable in the chair. It was obvious he wasn't going to get a good night's sleep so he might as well settle in for the long wait before breakfast. Draco was shocked out of his musings by his house mate's voice, closer than he expected and louder than he'd heard it since their first day of school.

"Don't call her that," Blaise almost growled a mere few feet away from Draco and looking intimidating as he loomed over the blond Prince in the darkness. Draco opened his mouth to reply but for once Zabini spoke over him, "and if you touch her again I'll..."

Draco's mind immediately jumped to the kiss and he cursed the stupid mudblood wench for spilling so quickly. She was supposed to be intelligent. Draco looked up at his friend sharply, suddenly wide awake, his eyes narrowed and defensive.

"What?" He said, rising to meet the height of his opponent, "What are you going to do?" Draco was fuming, angry that his momentary madness had been discovered, but mostly confused as to why the boy before him cared so much that he'd kissed the Gryffindor girl.

Blaise, who usually would have walked away by now, merely pulled himself up to his fullest height and took a deep breath to calm himself.

"I doubt Professor McGonagall would be best pleased to know you'd been beating around her best student." He replied, his voice returning to its usual serenity, but his eyes blazing. Draco blanched for a moment, unsure of what Blaise was talking about, and then realised he was referring to the injury Hermione had had in Potions class a few days ago...Draco's heart beat began to slow down as he realised he hadn't been caught, and he almost chuckled at how close he had been to telling Blaise the secret himself. But he was relieved.

Why would anyone care if he hit a mudblood? As long as no one knew he'd kissed one, he was safe.

Blaise registered the slight smirk on Malfoy's face and turned away, disgusted.

Draco watched him leave with a heavy heart. His relationship with Blaise had become so confusing, and before he could stop himself, Malfoy heard a small, somewhat meek voice speaking and realised it was his own.

"We used to be friends," the voice said, ringing out across the cold dungeon room despite its softness. There was a pause as the dark skinned boy turned to face his house mate. He seemed to halt for a moment, sizing up the boy in front of him before he sighed slightly, his eyes showing a hint of understanding.

"I'm still your friend Draco." He said, his deep voice ringing out as clearly as the first had.

"No." Draco replied quickly, "You're not. Not since..." the two shared a look of sad understanding and Draco could almost feel the mark on his arm burning into his skin. "Why can't you just understand?" He asked in a small voice, feeling more like a child than he ever had in his childhood.

"You know why," Blaise replied, "I can't just forgive what they did." Draco looked up at his friend, his eyebrows drawn together to form a heartbreaking expression of sadness.

"That was an accident..." he said, knowing he wasn't convincing anyone. It hadn't been an accident, but Draco's eyes pleaded Blaise to pretend. To pretend it hadn't happened, or at least to pretend that Draco wasn't one of them now...

But it was too much to ask of anyone, and without another word, Draco's only friend broke his gaze, and sunk quietly into the shadows of his dorm room, leaving the blond boy alone once more.

Draco's eyes stung with tears, with the sort of emotion only those close to him could bring out. The sort of emotion only Blaise could bring out. The rational part of Draco's mind knew he couldn't expect his friend to understand, but another part, the dark, selfish part which had got him into this mess, insisted that Blaise was doing this on purpose. That Blaise _wanted_ Draco to be alone, and friendless, left to fend off the evil of his family, his life all by himself...

Draco felt warm tears dripping down his cheeks and willed them away. But they wouldn't do as he said, and he began to feel angry. Angry all over again. Angry at Blaise, angry at his parents, angry at himself, angry at the mark that was etched eternally into his skin...

And angry at her, at Granger. Her and all the other mudbloods like her. She and her kind were the reason he had to go through with this. The reason his parents could never love him for who he was and the reason nothing he did satisfied the Dark Lord...

But worst of all...they were the reason...the reason he could never give himself completely to his Master, the reason his parents looked on him with shame when he failed his task. It was their fault he couldn't stand to watch muggle children being beaten. Their fault that the sight of a limp, twisted corpse whose only crime was _being_ left him sick. It was their fault that the only son of the glorious Malfoy family was a coward.

Because he cared. More than he should. More than he understood, and more than anyone had ever have expected from someone like him. He couldn't let go of the fact that the people he was born to hate had done nothing, nothing other than just existing. He couldn't accept that they should be tortured and terrorised for something over which they had not control...he knew this was true. But he also knew that it made him a coward. For he was supposed to enjoy it. He was supposed to gain some kind of pleasure from watching innocent people being torn apart, like his mother and his father and his Master did.

But he didn't. And Draco wasn't sure how much longer he could hide that.

As time went on, Hermione found it easier and easier to forget about the kiss with Draco, to ignore him completely in fact, and to focus her attention on Blaise who was rapidly becoming her closest friend.

Lavender insisted to anyone who would listen that the two were a couple, of course, and Ron was in a constantly foul mood, but to Hermione it simply felt as though she had, at last, found something akin to a soul mate. She felt more comfortable around Blaise than she ever had around Ron, but this was mostly due to the fact that Blaise _listened_ to her, in fact Hermione often found herself rambling on for hours on end before realising that her poor companion must have been bored to death by now...however whenever she paused for breath she always found the Slytherin boy gazing at her, a mild look of interest on his face.

And, as time went by, he too began to open up to her more. Of course, she still dominated the conversation as no amount of closeness could change the fact that Blaise was not talkative by nature, but the small snippets she heard about his own feelings and life became more frequent, and Hermione still felt special every time she learnt something new about him that she was sure no one else but Malfoy could know.

Gradually, the school grew accustomed to their relationship, and as the Christmas Holidays approached it was only Lavender who still thought it gossip-worthy that the two were walking alone in the grounds after lunch. On one such day, whilst walking past the frozen lake, Hermione decided to broach one of the few topics the two had yet to discuss. So, with the utmost caution, she began to discuss her plans for the holiday, and along with them, her family.

As she rambled on comfortably about her parents, her cousins, her aunts and uncles, and all the other relatives who squeezed into her small suburb house for the Christmas festivities, Hermione failed to notice that the solemn boy beside her was even more silent than usual, and when she finally turned to look at him, she was surprised to see his face blank...stone cold.

She stopped immediately in her tracks, both verbally and physically, and the tall boy, too, ground to a halt beside her. Hermione was worried that she had bored him...or worse yet...that he had found the talk of her muggle family revolting.

"I'm sorry," she said hesitantly, "is something the matter?" Hermione feared his response but new by now that there was no point skirting around the subject. Blaise remained facing forwards as his lips formed the soft words, "it's nothing."

Hermione was not convinced, however, and, worried that all the progress they'd made over the past few months was coming to a grinding halt, she jumped out and stood right in front of him, forcing his eyes to fix on her face. She was determined and her facial features showed it. Blaise couldn't help the small smirk which tugged at his lips at the bizarre expression on her face and Hermione's heart sang out in relief at the sight of it. Clearly he wasn't _too_ disgusted with her.

"So," She said raising one eyebrow, "what's the problem?" Blaise's gaze didn't move, nor did his features change. He remained completely still as Hermione grew increasingly impatient before him.

She couldn't help the childish urge which bubbled up inside of her, and without thinking, grabbed onto his glove-clad hand and tugged on it repeatedly.

"Come oooon!" She whined, "Tell meeee!" Hermione couldn't help but feel a little pleased with herself as she saw a small smile appear on Blaise's lips.

"I don't want to dishearten you." He said simply and continued walking, "But I can see you won't be dissuaded," He continued, leading the now confused Hermione to a dry spot by the lake and sitting down gesturing for her to follow. When she was seated he sighed dejectedly and shoved his hands in his pockets, he didn't like talking about himself.

"I suppose," he began, his voice seeming unusually loud after the silence of the snow-clad landscape, "it's time to tell you my sad little story." Hermione's heart suddenly clenched in her chest, this was not what she'd been expecting at all, but she leaned forward nonetheless, eager to hear anything of this boy's life.

"You spoke of your family," he began, looking towards the castle, "they sound wonderful by the way," he added politely and Hermione blushed recalling the brash way she'd outlined the personalities of her rowdy family members, "but, I'm afraid I have little to tell when it comes to family. My father, as I hope you will not be shocked to hear, was a Death Eater. One of the first to join as it happened. He was often away and mother raised me by herself mostly. She didn't mind though, and father came home rarely. But the night Voldemort killed Potter's parents, my father fled, came straight back to where we lived. He told mother to pack her bags, that we had to leave because they were looking for him. And we ran. Father was good, he was a very intelligent wizard and he hid us well. But when I came here everything changed. They tracked him down after those most faithful to the Dark Lord heard he had returned. They wanted him to join them, but he'd built a life now, his Death Eater days were behind him. They killed him," Blaise said, his face a blank, emotionless mask, "and then they killed my mother," At this moment Hermione saw a flash of something that looked like anger in his eyes and when he continued, there was a new, hard tone to his voice, "but not before they'd reminded her that she was filth. Dirty blood, they said." Blaise was breathing heavily now, his eyes still gazing fixatedly at the castle.

"Your mother was a muggle born?" Hermione asked with gentle surprise, wanting desperately to comfort him but unsure how.

"No." He replied, and a dark chuckle escaped his lips, "Both her parents were wizards. But her grandmother was a muggle and what was all they needed to hear." Hermione watched his face in horror. She would never have imagined that the boy in front of her had had to deal with such monstrosities, and she almost regretted asking him in the first place. But somehow she couldn't bring herself to regret it entirely. As selfish as it was, she liked being someone he could confide in, someone he could tell his deepest secrets to and, she hoped, someone who could comfort him when he needed it.

She had never seen him like this before, his face contorted in anger, his voice sharp. She was scared, but she knew that he wouldn't hurt her so, as slowly as she could, she draped her arm across his shoulders and squeezed him gently to her.

He turned to look at her slowly, and his eyes were filled with such anguish that Hermione could barely stand to look at him.

"I hate them as much as you do, Hermione. You need to understand that." And then suddenly his face returned to its usual blank yet interested expression. Everything was back to normal, and yet Hermione knew that something irrevocable had happened between them today. He'd let her in behind his mask, and whilst it had been frightening, she felt a new bond to the boy in front of her. Something had been sparked inside her, an irrational need to protect this strong boy, and as her arm slipped from his shoulder, she vowed that she would always be there to protect him from harm.

**A/N: Slightly shorter than some of the other chapters and I'm sorry, but this was full of in depth character analysis and it's bloody tiring! On a side note, I realise that a lot of depth has been added to Draco and Blaise in this chapter, and I'd be very interested to hear what everyone has to think about it, even if it's just to say that I've gone way too deep/dramatic. I hope you liked it either way, I quite wanted Hermione to realise that she wasn't just some poor little muggle born who all the Slytherins hated, but that here were people other than Harry who had true horrors in their pasts. Anyway, let me know what you think! **

**Thank you all for the reviews last time, keep reading please and I hope to hear from you all again! xx**


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